


Education

by adventuresinaverage



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Confessions, First Love, Friendship, Hand Jobs, High School, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 61,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adventuresinaverage/pseuds/adventuresinaverage
Summary: For best friends Brendon, Patrick, and William, spending senior year together is inevitable. They've got it all planned out - the classes they'll take, the colleges they'll apply to, the possible romances they'll pursue, and the parties they'll go to. But life isn't that simple, and the universe throws curveballs at each of the boys as they try to maneuver through their last year of high school.Popular, attractive, and very straight Brendon meets new kid Ryan, who shows him that sometimes growth means discovering things about yourself that you didn't know existed. Shy and inexperienced Patrick finally gets his first boyfriend and realizes that first love isn't always easy. And creative and headstrong William sees his new boyfriend Gabe as a fast track to the real world, only to realize that growing up too fast has major consequences.Through every month of 12th grade, Brendon, Patrick, and William navigate life, love, new friends, and new experiences. They learn a little more about each other, themselves, and who they want to be. Growing up is never easy, but it's always worth it, especially with friends like these.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, William Beckett/Gabe Saporta
Comments: 18
Kudos: 32





	1. Summer: William (Prologue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story includes a relationship between a 17-year-old and an adult and a relationship between a student and a teacher.
> 
> *This can be read as one big story or, if you only prefer certain relationships/characters, you can just read those chapters! But read the prologue first, it sets everything up*

It started the same way every Friday this summer had. Patrick told his parents he would be home by midnight even though he knew he wouldn’t be. He picked up William, whose parents were away for the weekend as usual, and Brendon, who had told his parents he was going to the mall with some friends and then staying at William’s, nothing more. They talked about typical things on the way to the club, about boys and girls and what classes they were dreading when the school year started next week. But William couldn’t shake the heaviness in his chest. He knew this was it- the last Friday before school started. Before senior year. Before everything was going to change for them. The muggy summer air practically throbbed with change, with possibility.  
  
“So, did you give your mom the bullshit mall excuse again?” Patrick asked Brendon as they parked their car in the dirt lot next to the club.  
  
“Yeah, but I’m glad this is the last show of the summer. She’s starting to get suspicious about the fact that I spend the money she gives me but I never bring home any merchandise. She’ll only believe that I spend $30 on food court food every Friday for so long.”  
  
“Speaking of which…” William held out his hand. Brendon sighed and fished the $30 out of his pocket.  
  
“Just don’t get anything weird, okay? No fruit flavored anything and nothing that tastes like piss,” Brendon said.  
  
“Hey, I get us in, I get the drinks. That’s the rule. You wanna pick the drinks, get your own fake.” William winked and led the pack to the door. He flashed his fake at Sid, the burly but sweet bouncer.  
  
“These guys are with me,” William said.  
  
“Just like every week,” Sid replied. “You know the drill. Be safe.” William smiled in response. There was no way Sid thought William was 21, and there was definitely no way he thought Patrick or Brendon were 21. William appreciated being given the pass.  
  
Brendon and Patrick camped at their normal spot right in the middle of the floor while William took his usual place in line at the bar. He smiled to himself. It was at the point where the boys didn’t even need to look up what bands were playing, or even confirm their plans for the night. Fridays were spent at Arlo, the tiny punk club at the end of town. That was the rule. Ever since William got his fake ID at the beginning of the summer and they realized they could spend the season doing real adult things, there was no turning back.  
  
“Hey, the line’s moving,” someone said behind him, his tone rude. William turned around, ready to tell this guy off.  
  
But when William saw the guy, he couldn’t speak. This guy was _tall_ , as tall as William. He was skinny, but his hoodie was clinging to his body in a way that suggested he was built. He had caramel skin, and his scowl made him look less angry and more like a model.  
  
“The line,” the guy reported.  
  
“Alright dude, chill,” William snapped, his thoughts returning to him. He turned around and moved up the line. “The drinks will still be there when you get there.”  
  
The guy chuckled. “Hey man, I’m sorry. No need to get cranky.”  
  
“I’m not the cranky one,” William huffed.  
  
“Let’s all chill out. I said I was sorry.”  
  
“I guess I’ll forgive you.”  
  
“Thanks. What’s your name?”  
  
William turned back around to look at the man again. He was suddenly getting very friendly. He was even smiling, which made him even hotter than the scowl.  
  
“William,” he replied, trying very hard to look older and more aloof.  
  
“Hello, William. I’m Gabe.”  
  
“Hi Gabe.”  
  
Now William was at the bar. He fished out Brendon’s $30 from his pocket.  
  
“Hey, I got it,” Gabe said. William stared. What was happening here?  
  
“Uh, I’m getting drinks for me and my two friends.”  
  
“No problem. I’m also getting drinks for me and my two friends. I got it. Save that for a rainy day.”  
  
William shrugged and put the money back into his pocket. He ordered three Blue Moons because they were the most expensive beers at the bar. He noticed Gabe give him a sideways glance before ordering the same thing.  
  
“Alright, well, I gotta get to my friends,” William said as he picked up the beers.  
  
“So do I. Wanna meet them? One of them’s playing in the show tonight.”  
  
“Um.” William didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what was happening. He’d flirted with tons of guys at Arlo this summer, but not like this. This was… subtle. He wasn’t even sure if this was flirting, or if this guy was just being friendly because he had been an ass. Was there a way to tell?  
  
“Tell you what,” Gabe said. “How about we get my friends, and we meet your friends. Sound alright?”  
  
William just nodded. Gabe turned around and walked toward the back of the club. William followed, entranced.  
  
They met up with two other guys. One was skinny and wearing a lot of eyeliner and hair gel, and the other was short and… also wearing a lot of eyeliner and hair gel. They looked like a punk girl’s wet dream. William looked back at Gabe, who looked inconspicuous and cool next to them.  
  
“Ryan, Pete, this is William. Will, Pete and Ryan,” Gabe said, passing the beers around. “Pete’s playing in the show.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m stoked. This is the biggest room we’ve played,” the smaller man said.  
  
“We’re gonna meet some other people,” Gabe said, a natural leader. The other boys followed him without question.  
  
William found his friends easily. They always stood in the same place to drink their beer before pushing into the crowd. After the introductions were made and the beers passed around, Brendon said, “These are expensive. Do you have enough for another round?”  
  
Gabe laughed. William felt his heart leave his body and drop to the floor. What a _sound_.  
  
“I got this round, no biggie,” he said, smiling this movie star smile that William couldn’t stop staring at. “Will here has enough for a few Miller Lites.”  
  
“Are you guys from around here? I just moved here,” Ryan said. He was quiet, less like he was shy and more like he was telling a secret. Pete, Ryan’s total opposite, ruffled Ryan’s hair.  
  
“Yeah, he’s an old friend. I’m taking him under my wing for a bit,” Pete said. “But you guys gotta watch him while I’m on stage.”  
  
“Oh, you’re playing tonight?” Patrick asked. His tone would have seemed normal to anyone else but William, who knew every tone of Patrick’s voice and knew this Pete guy was going to spell trouble for Patrick. Patrick was already infatuated.  
  
“Yeah,” Pete said, smiling devilishly at Patrick. “I play bass.”  
  
“Good luck,” Patrick said, oozing a confidence William had never seen before.  
  
“Thanks,” Pete replied. “Your name’s Patrick?”  
  
Patrick nodded. Apparently his new confidence only lasted a sentence.  
  
“Cool,” Pete said. “Stick around so I can see you after the show, Trick.” He winked and walked off.  
  
“Watch out for him,” Ryan said. “He’s a heartbreaker.”  
  
“He can break my heart any day,” Patrick commented. William rolled his eyes. Gabe laughed again. William turned to look at him and take him in, and he realized Gabe had been staring at him. But he didn’t seem embarrassed. They stared at each other for a second before Patrick grabbed William and Brendon’s wrists and said, “We gotta get up front.”  
  
The group pushed their way into the crowd that had begun to form. William grunted, trying to stay as close to Gabe as possible, but there was no way to get out of Patrick’s death grip. Not that William would have denied Patrick being close to the stage. He knew Patrick’s flirting style: don’t say anything and stay in the chosen guy’s line of sight long enough to be noticed. Luckily, Gabe and Ryan were energetic enough to push through the crowd to keep up.  
  
All five boys were crammed together, and somehow William was stuck right in between Brendon and Gabe. The heat of Gabe’s body pressed against his back made William crazy. It also scared the shit out of him.  
  
“So… how do you know Pete?” William asked Gabe, desperate for conversation.  
  
“We’ve been friends for a while. We used to be roommates before I got a real job and my own place,” Gabe responded.  
  
“Oh, cool,” William said. He knew there were good responses to that statement- _What do you do? Do you live in Chicago or the suburbs?_ \- but for some reason his brain wouldn’t let him talk.  
  
“So.” Gabe said, smirking and looking directly into William’s eyes. “Are you seeing anyone?”  
  
“Um. What?”  
  
Suddenly, Pete’s band took the stage. Gabe laughed again. Everyone shoved together and got as close to the stage as possible. In the shuffle, Gabe grabbed William’s waist from behind. William stiffened at the contact.  
  
“Hey, Will, it’s okay. I just didn’t want to get lost,” Gabe said into William’s ear. William couldn’t tell if Gabe had meant it for the group to hear or just him, but he looked around and knew no one else had heard it. Gabe let go of William, but he could still feel the heat of Gabe’s fingers and Gabe’s breath on his ear. He prayed that he would never forget this moment.  
  
Pete’s band began to play. William knew immediately that they were good. Like, really good. He looked around and could see that Patrick knew it too. Patrick was entranced. He wasn’t looking anywhere but straight at Pete. It looked like he was panting. William looked at Gabe and smiled. Gabe smiled back. William let the music and the crowd take over, dancing and screaming and jumping around to songs he didn’t know. This was always the best part of his week. For two hours, he could forget being 18, being single, having to start school in a matter of days. He could be with the music. He could be with all of these other people he didn’t know. He could just… be.  
  
He felt Gabe dancing behind him. Patrick abandoned the crowd in an effort to get closer to the stage. Normally William would be annoyed, but tonight he didn’t mind. Here was this boy (man?) standing behind him, who had definitely asked if he was single, who was pushing into him in a way that didn’t feel exactly accidental. He couldn’t give two shits what Patrick or Brendon decided to do tonight.  
  
Pete’s band was loud and fast and amazing, and William was a little upset when it was over. But in the lull between sets, Gabe leaned into him and whispered, “Do you smoke?”  
  
William had quit smoking two weeks ago, but he could start again if it meant being alone with Gabe. He nodded and then turned to Brendon.  
  
“I’m going to smoke,” he said, shoving Brendon’s $30 into his hand.  
  
“You just quit!”  
  
“I know. Here’s the beer money. Go get something. You can have my beer if you promise not to make me feel bad about this.”  
  
At the mention of an extra beer, Brendon smiled and took the money without another word. William turned to Gabe. “Alright, let’s go.”  
  
“Cool.” Gabe took his hand and led him through the crowd to the back door. It was all William could do to keep from swooning.  
  
They stepped outside into the hot summer air. Gabe leaned against the wall and fished for his cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and smirked.  
  
“What?” William asked. He suddenly felt like he was on show, like Gabe was looking at every part of him.  
  
In a swift motion, Gabe pulled a cigarette out of his pack, stuck it in William’s mouth, and lit it. It took William a second to remember how to inhale. Or how to breathe at all. Gabe chuckled.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
William nodded and took a drag. “You’re really, uh, suave.”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“So you don’t really know Ryan?”  
  
Gabe shook his head. “Just met him tonight. Ryan’s interesting. A little quiet, I guess. Pete’s a weird guy. He hangs out with a weird crowd.”  
  
“Meaning?”  
  
“I don’t know, he hangs out with younger people. Dates younger people, too. I’d rather be with people my own age.”  
  
William’s heart pounded, but he asked the question anyway. “Which is?”  
  
“I’m 25. I like to hang out with people who can, you know, at least drink.”  
  
William said nothing about his fake.  
  
“Pete only got Ryan in here because Pete’s playing tonight, but Ryan’s like 18. He’ll be a senior this year.”  
  
“Huh,” William said, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Why couldn’t he think of something to say? Why couldn’t he look Gabe in the face? He was acting like such a dweeb.  
  
“Can I try something?” Gabe said suddenly. He was grinning. William nodded. He would let Gabe try anything.  
  
Gabe dropped his cigarette and stomped it out. He closed the small gap between them. He was staring daggers into William’s eyes. William wanted to ask him a million questions, but he knew they would all make him seem young and inexperienced. He felt small just standing next to Gabe, but he trusted him completely. He dropped his own cigarette.  
  
“I like the name ‘Will’ a lot. It’s a really nice name,” Gabe said. “It feels good to say.”  
  
Then he took William’s face in his hands and leaned toward him. He licked his lips and then, suddenly, he was kissing William.  
  
William had kissed a couple boys before. But it wasn’t like this. The boys William had kissed had no clue what they were doing, and William didn’t either. But Gabe knew. Every part of the kiss was a question. Gabe started soft, just grazing William’s lips. But when William pushed himself closer, Gabe pressed his mouth hard against William’s, coaxing his mouth open. He kept his hands on William’s face until William grazed his hips with his fingers, and then he pulled William against him by the belt loops on William’s jeans. William could feel that Gabe was hard, and he knew Gabe knew that he was, too. Gabe tasted like tobacco and beer and smelled like sweat. William carded his fingers through Gabe’s hair, trying anything to get closer, to feel as much as possible.  
  
William heard the crowd roar. He knew the next band was starting. He didn’t care. He wanted to keep making out with Gabe. He wanted to do more than that. He wanted to do everything right now in this parking lot.  
  
But Gabe pulled away. “We should go back in, huh?” he whispered. “Our friends will worry.”  
  
“Our friends didn’t even notice we left.” William knew he was pouting. He didn’t care.  
  
Gabe laughed. “Look. I’m not like Pete, alright? When I like someone, I take it slow. Tonight will not be the night we fuck in the backseat of Pete’s car.”  
  
William shuddered and blushed hard. No one had ever talked to him about sex like that. There was a promise in Gabe’s statement that drove William crazy.  
  
“Come on,” Gabe said, taking his hand again.  
  
And suddenly, they were back in the club, back in the crowd. Gabe somehow found Ryan and Brendon immediately. Patrick had found his way back to them, too.  
  
“Hey, where were you?” Patrick asked, guzzling his beer. “You weren’t smoking, right?”  
  
“I’ll tell you on the ride home,” William said. Patrick responded with a knowing look and started dancing.  
  
The two bands that played after Pete’s weren’t nearly as good. But Gabe kept pressing against William and holding onto his waist, and that made him feel better than Pete’s music did.  
  
At the end of the show, Patrick made everyone wait by the stage door for Pete. Gabe and William kept exchanging looks, but Gabe didn’t take William’s hand or wrap his arm around WIlliam’s shoulders or touch him at all. William ached for the contact, but he didn’t dare initiate it himself.  
  
Pete finally emerged from backstage and immediately smiled at Patrick. “My number one fan. Great energy tonight, Trickster.” he said, winking again. Patrick just laughed.  
  
“Listen, Gabe and I gotta run,” Pete said, “but here’s my number.” Pete took Patrick’s hand and wrote his number down, causing Patrick to turn an entirely unnatural shade of red. William would have laughed, but he knew he had blushed more tonight than he had in his entire life.  
  
“Don’t leave me hanging, okay?” Pete said. “Okay, Gabe, let’s go. Ryan, you need a ride?”  
  
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “It was cool hanging out tonight, Brendon. And, uh, everyone.”  
  
“Yeah, see you,” Brendon said.  
  
“See ya ‘round, Will. Maybe next Friday, same place?” Gabe said, smiling. That fucking smile.  
  
“Yeah,” William nodded, entranced.  
  
And suddenly, Gabe and his friends were gone.  
  
“That Ryan kid was… weird. I think he’s going to our school,” Brendon said to Patrick and William as they left the club. “I hope he doesn’t try to be my best friend or something.”  
  
“I kissed that guy,” William said suddenly. “Gabe. I kissed him.”  
  
“No fair!” Patrick whined. “I didn’t get to kiss my guy!”  
  
“Honestly, maybe I should hang out with Ryan,” Brendon huffed. “Better than being best friends with the only two gay guys in our class.”  
  
“I’m not gay,” Patrick protested. “I’m fluid.”  
  
“Yeah yeah, whatever. The diner?”  
  
“The diner,” Patrick replied as they all piled into his car.  
  
On the way there, William rolled the window down in the back seat. He wanted to remember everything about this night. The way the air smelled and felt and the way the sky looked. This was the night. He knew it. This was the night that he would look back on years from now and say, “That’s when everything changed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the third time I'm trying this. We'll see how far I get. Thanks in advance for reading! I've wanted to do this for a long time so I'm excited to finally have time to take it seriously. Kudos and comments are life-giving. <3 <3


	2. September: Patrick

“You’ll be fine,” Brendon groaned, sitting on Patrick’s floor and flipping through a magazine.  
  
“Hey. We don’t know that. This guy could be a murderer or something,” Patrick replied, adjusting his tee shirt for the seven millionth time in the last fifteen minutes.  
  
“He is not a murderer,” Bill said. “They don’t let murderers into bands.”  
  
Patrick sat down on his bed next to Bill. “I just feel a little weird about all this. I met him less than 24 hours ago. We sent like 15 texts back and forth. Why does he want to hang out now?”  
  
“Maybe that’s what adults do. They just decide to go on dates immediately after they meet someone they like.”  
  
“Gabe didn’t.”  
  
Bill smiled and fell back on Patrick’s bed. “Gabe is… different.”  
  
Patrick rolled his eyes and smiled. Of the three of them, Patrick easily had the least experience and William had the most. Brendon was somewhere in the middle, but that made sense. He was straight, so he didn’t feel weird about expressing his sexuality like Patrick or like he needed to overcompensate like William. Bill was objectively beautiful and looked and acted older, so he’d had a lot of luck with the small gay community in their Chicago suburb. He’d also had a lot of luck because of how aloof he was about the people he dated. This Gabe guy was another story. Bill had done well last night, not asking for Gabe’s number or clinging to him, instead just setting a date for next Friday, but from the diner to this second he was obsessed. Patrick had never seen him like this. He was glad that he wasn’t the only one with butterflies.  
  
“I know you had your Prince Charming moment last night, but I’m trying to get kissed too. So help me out.”  
  
Bill sat up. “Okay, all you have to do is act like you’re having fun, but because the show is fun, not because of him. And he should kiss you, not the other way around.”  
  
“And you should compliment him, but not too much,” Brendon added. “And say yes to anything he wants to do after the show. Dinner, coffee, an after-party, whatever. It shows you’re up for anything.”  
  
“I don’t know how to do… any of that,” Patrick replied.  
  
“Okay, then just be yourself. He obviously likes you. I mean, he wants you to go backstage at a show he’s playing. That’s a big deal,” Bill said.  
  
“Do I look okay?” Patrick asked, walking to his mirror. His tee shirt was a little tight and his jeans were a little short. His Converse were beat to shit. He hadn’t outgrown all of his baby fat. He looked like a teenager, which was the opposite of what he was going for.  
  
“You were wearing the same type of outfit last night,” Brendon said. “Everything’s going to be fine. When is he supposed to pick you up?”  
  
As if on cue, a horn honked outside.  
  
“Oh my god. Okay,” Patrick said, freaking out.  
  
“Hey, it’s gonna be great. You’re a great, cute guy. Just don’t do anything you don’t want to do. Just be confident,” Bill assured him.  
  
“Yeah, exactly. Have a great night. We’ll show ourselves out.” Brendon patted Patrick on the back. Patrick took a deep breath and headed out the door.  
  
Right outside of Patrick’s house was an old blue car. And there he was in the driver’s seat, wearing a tight hoodie and huge sunglasses and smoking a cigarette. Patrick’s heart jumped into his throat.  
  
“Hey,” he said when he got into the car. Pete immediately beamed.  
  
“Hey, long time no see,” Pete said. “You ready for a night of fun?”  
  
Patrick nodded. Pete pushed a button on his stereo as he started driving. “Do you like new wave? I have a Cure tape in here. I only have a tape deck, sorry. I try to spend my money on instruments and band equipment. Do you play any instruments?”  
  
“Uh, yeah,” Patrick said, taken aback by how easy Pete was taking this date and, frankly, how much he had just said.  
  
“Oh cool! Like what?”  
  
“Drums, mostly, but I play guitar too. And bass.”  
  
“Holy shit, Trick! Get outta here, that’s awesome!”  
  
“Yeah, I’ve been playing for a while.”  
  
“I can’t wait for a serenade,” Pete cooed. Patrick blushed.  
  
Pete was playing at Arlo again. The drive was about 15 minutes, and Pete talked the whole way. Patrick tried to talk back, but he realized pretty quickly that Pete just wanted him to listen. And he did happily. He learned that Pete loved 80s movies and the Chicago music scene, and he loved fall but hated winter. He didn’t like any sports, but he played soccer in high school.  
  
“So… you’re in high school, right?” Pete asked as he parked his car at Arlo.  
  
“Uh.” What was Patrick supposed to say?  
  
“Hey, it’s cool. You’re not the first high schooler in this car. How old are you?”  
  
“Seventeen.”  
  
“I figured as much. I’m cool with it as long as you are.”  
  
“Yeah,” Patrick said. How. _How_ was he getting this lucky?  
  
“Come on, Trickster. You’re my good luck charm tonight.”  
  
When Patrick got out of the car, Pete took his hand and led him through the empty club into the green room behind the stage. There were a few people setting up for the show, and Pete knew them all. He joked around with them and introduced Patrick to them. Patrick was quiet through the whole thing. He felt like he was basking in the sun, in the absurd light of this energetic and beautiful man. He felt so so good.  
  
But then they got into the green room, and Pete sprawled out on the shitty leather couch, and a pit formed in Patrick’s stomach. He suddenly realized how alone he and Pete were. He felt like he was under pressure, but he couldn’t tell why. He stood next to the door.  
  
“You wanna mess with some of the guitars in here?” Pete asked, motioning to a few guitars that were lying in the corner. “I have to hear you play.”  
  
“Uh, sure,” Patrick said, happy to have something to do that wasn’t just standing and staring. He grabbed an acoustic guitar and sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. He played In Between Days because he knew Pete would know it.  
  
“Do you sing?” Pete asked suddenly.  
  
“A little.”  
  
“Sing it, then,” Pete requested in a whisper. There was something behind Pete’s eyes that Patrick couldn’t quite discern, but it made Patrick shiver. He started to sing. Quietly at first, then louder as he got more comfortable. He got lost in playing, so it was a shock when he finished playing, looked up, and saw Pete leaning forward on the couch, his mouth open.  
  
“You’re seventeen?” Pete asked, still whispering.  
  
Patrick nodded. His mouth was too dry for him to talk. No one had ever looked at him like Pete was looking at him. He felt so out of his depth, but he liked the feeling.  
  
“You’re a fucking legend,” Pete whispered, slinking to the floor next to Patrick.  
  
“Um.” Patrick was entranced. All he could see was Pete, his tan and his tattoos and his eyeliner and his lips. He put the guitar down.  
  
“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, Patrick Stump,” Pete said. And suddenly he lunged at Patrick, kissing him so hard their teeth crashed together. Patrick pulled away, mostly out of shock. Pete laughed.  
  
“Sorry,” Pete said. “I’m a little over-eager. I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you. Last night, seeing you in the crowd… God, you were hot.”  
  
Patrick blushed and looked away. Pete smiled and brushed Patrick’s hair from his forehead. “Hey, are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s just… no one’s ever talked to me like this before.”  
  
“What?” Pete exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous! You’re a catch, Trick. A fucking catch.”  
  
When Pete leaned in again, Patrick was ready. He opened his mouth as soon as Pete’s lips met his. Pete pulled himself onto Patrick’s lap as they kissed. God, he tasted good. Patrick pulled Pete close, purely out of instinct, and Pete rolled his hips into Patrick’s. Patrick moaned into the kiss. He was embarrassed for a millisecond, but Pete gripped his hair and pulled him closer and Patrick moaned again. It was all so overwhelming. He could feel his erection pressing into Pete’s leg. It was driving him crazy. Patrick slipped his fingers under Pete’s shirt and Pete’s breath hitched. It felt so good, so different, to actually BE with somebody.  
  
And then Pete tried to unbutton Patrick’s jeans.  
  
Patrick snapped away so fast he hit his head on the wall. Pete furrowed his brow. “You alright?” he asked.  
  
“Uh, I’ve just never done this before.”  
  
“Sex?”  
  
“No,” Patrick almost choked. “No. Uh, any of this. Making out, messing around… I’ve never really dated anyone.”  
  
“Oh,” Pete said. He climbed off of Patrick. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. I even thought maybe I could fake it, but… I don’t know, I’m not ready.”  
  
“For anything?”  
  
“No, not like that! I want to be with you. And I want to try… I don’t know, some stuff. It felt good until… God, I don’t know what I’m saying.”  
  
“That’s okay,” Pete said. “We can go at your speed, whatever you wanna do.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Patrick said, suddenly feeling out of place.  
  
“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal at all.”  
  
“I just feel like I ruined our date,” Patrick groaned. Pete gave him a strange look, but he didn’t get a chance to respond because three guys tumbled into the green room.  
  
Pete immediately got up and started messing with the guys. Patrick recognized them as the rest of Pete’s band. Pete introduced Patrick to them and then started talking really fast about the setlist and what covers were and were not allowed. Patrick stayed against the wall. He was absolutely not part of this conversation, but he didn’t feel invisible. He was content to watch Pete move, watch him talk, watch him get excited. He was having a hard time with the fact that this Pete, with the energy of a golden retriever puppy, was the same husky, sexy Pete as the one on his lap less than 10 minutes ago.  
  
After a few minutes, Pete came over to Patrick. “We’re going on soon. Do you want to watch from the crowd or backstage?”  
  
“Backstage, definitely.”  
  
“Good. I love having someone waiting for me backstage.” Pete smirked and kissed Patrick on the cheek. “We’re gonna go set up. See you after.”  
  
Patrick smiled and waved. After the band left, he sat on the couch for a second. He couldn’t believe what was happening. He couldn’t wait to tell Brendon and Bill about this night.  
  
When he heard the music start, he went to the side of the stage and watched Pete’s band play. Screamo wasn’t really Patrick’s thing, but he really liked this band. Pete commanded the stage. Kids were clamoring to get to the front, to touch Pete’s leg. Patrick couldn’t believe that this band was new. It seemed like Pete had been playing for this crowd with this band for years.  
  
After the show was over, Pete came bouding up to Patrick and kissed him. “How did we sound?”  
  
“Great,” Patrick responded, starstruck.  
  
“The guys want to watch the other band. Do you want to do that or do you want to hang out in the green room?”  
  
“Uh, green room?” Patrick asked. He was starting to crave alone time with Pete.  
  
Pete smirked and took Patrick’s hand. “Sounds good.”  
  
They collapsed onto the couch in the green room. They talked for a long time, about the best new wave bands and Tim Burton movies, the best coffee in Chicago, and, weirdly, Patrick’s favorite subjects in school. Pete inched closer and closer to Patrick throughout the conversation, and suddenly they were kissing again. Pete climbed on top of Patrick, the heat of his body and his mouth overwhelming without being scary. Pete bit Patrick’s lip, and Patrick moaned, gripping the fabric of Pete’s hoodie. He wanted more, but Pete didn’t try anything, and Patrick didn’t know how to ask.  
  
They made out until the second band finished playing and their lips were raw. Once it was over, Pete pulled himself off of Patrick. “I better get you home. Don’t want your parents to hate me before I’ve even met them.”  
  
Pete held Patrick’s hand on the drive home. When he parked in front of Patrick’s house, he kissed Patrick gently. Patrick took in how soft Pete’s lips were. He never wanted to stop kissing Pete.  
  
“I don’t want you to be scared of me. Of this,” Pete said when they pulled apart.  
  
“I’m not. I’m really sorry about earlier.”  
  
“I keep telling you not to be.”  
  
“Okay, okay.”  
  
“Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”  
  
Patrick laughed. “Okay.”  
  
“I’ll call you the day after that too.”  
  
“Well, that’s the first day of school.”  
  
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll still call you.”  
  
“You can text me.”  
  
“Texting is dumb, Tricky. I. Will. Call. You. You are gonna have some late nights on the landline. I don’t mess around.”  
  
Patrick couldn’t help but smile. “Looking forward to it.”  
  
“Night, Trick. Talk to you soon.”  
  
“Night, Pete. Talk to you tomorrow.”  
  
“Tomorrow.”


	3. September: Brendon

The school was within walking distance from Brendon’s house, but Patrick picked him up anyway. It was tradition, and Brendon was not about to give up tradition during his senior year. He knew everything was changing soon, and he wanted to hold on to these moments as much as possible.   
  
“I can’t believe we don’t have any classes together,” Bill groaned from the back seat.  
  
“Whose fault is that?” Brendon asked, staring Bill down from the rear-view mirror. “Mr. I-have-to-take-every-English-class-so-I-can-write-the-next-great-American-novel, that’s who.”  
  
“I have to take English classes so I can get into a good creative writing program,” Bill said matter-of-factly.  
  
“You might be forgetting the part where every college wants you to do well on the SAT, which includes, you know, math,” Patrick responded.   
  
“Math is boring,” Bill responded. “Plus, Brendon’s no better. He’s taking two music classes.”  
  
“I’m also taking calculus.”  
  
“I wonder if Pete ever took calculus,” Patrick mused. Bill made kissing sounds from the back seat.  
  
“We talked on the phone for three hours last night,” Patrick said as he parked in the Senior lot at school. “He’s so funny. Plus we had… phone sex.”  
  
“I don’t understand how you two found older guys to date before the school year even started, and I’ve barely gotten any action,” Brendon sighed.   
  
“Is there anyone you’re interested in?” Bill asked as they made their way to their lockers.  
  
Brendon thought about it. He’d heard Sarah Orzechowski had broken up with her boyfriend over the summer. He’d always thought she was pretty, but she usually dated older guys. “Not really,” he said honestly.  
  
“Let’s meet at the car for lunch,” Patrick said. “Taco Bell is calling my name.”  
  
“Mine too,” Brendon said. And he trudged to AP Physics.   
  
Unlike William, Brendon had no clue what he wanted to go to college for, so his schedule was pretty boring. He was taking all the standard classes at the highest levels so he could be, in his mother’s words, “marketable.” His only reprieves throughout the day were going to be lunch with Patrick and Bill, his independent study in piano, and AP Music Theory.   
  
The day passed slowly. All the teachers talked about how much work their class was going to be and how college professors wouldn’t tolerate slacking off. Brendon mostly doodled and stared at Sarah, who was in most of his classes.   
  
He ate Taco Bell with Bill and Patrick and listened as they talked about their respective adult boyfriends. It was definitely uncharted territory being left out of romantic conversations. Brendon was rarely in between girlfriends, and Patrick never dated. Brendon kind of hated being the only single one. He felt a newfound empathy for Patrick’s situation. And he made a mental note to find a girlfriend as soon as possible.  
  
During the second half of the day, he took more notice of Sarah. They had mutual friends but had never really talked. She really was beautiful, and she was bubbly and giggly in an infectious way. She was in most of his classes. By Music Theory, he was smitten.  
  
He knew the moves. He would act aloof for a week or so, figure out what she was interested in, and try to see what they had in common. Then he would talk to her for a few weeks, crack some jokes, and he’d be dating her by Halloween. In accordance with his plan, he smiled at her when he walked into the room but didn’t sit next to her.  
  
He doodled while waiting for class to start. Man, he was tired. He was so excited for high school to be over. He was excited for college, for hanging out whenever he wanted, for dating all kinds of new, interesting girls, for parties -   
  
“Hey, Brendon right?”  
  
Brendon looked up to see Ryan, the weird kid from the show on Friday. “Uh, yeah. Hey.”  
  
“Is this seat taken?” Ryan asked, already settling into the seat next to Brendon. Brendon tried not to make a face. Because his friends abandoned him for more romantic pursuits on Friday, Brendon had been stuck with Ryan, who tried to talk to him through the whole show about whose guitar was out of tune and whose harmonies weren’t up to snuff. And he looked right now the same way he looked at that show – heavy black eyeliner, mascara?, very skinny pants, and a vest.  
  
“I’m so glad I know someone in one of my classes. It sucks being the new kid,” Ryan said. Brendon just nodded. He was really looking forward to taking this class and not being bothered.  
  
“Alright, listen up!” The teacher said as the bell rang. Brendon was happy to have a reason not to talk to Ryan.  
  
The teacher talked for a while about what was expected in the class. “There will not be a final exam,” she said. “You have to take the AP exam. I’m not going to pile onto that by having you do a separate test. Instead, you’re going to do a yearlong project, culminating in two original songs. One will be due right before Christmas break, and one will be due in May.”  
  
There was an excited murmur throughout the class. Brendon sat up straight. This was new. This was exciting.  
  
“You’ll have to work in pairs, which I have randomly assigned to you,” the teacher said. Brendon prayed for his partner to be Sarah.  
  
“Okay, Brendon Urie. You’re with… Ryan Ross.”  
  
Brendon’s mood plummeted. He was going to have to get to know this guy? A new kid? Who was already annoying? Not Sarah? He had to physically stop himself from groaning. He chanced a look at Ryan, who was staring at him and smiling wider than was necessary.  
  
After everyone got their assignments, they watched a video on Broadway musicals that took up most of the period. There were 10 minutes left after the video was over, so the teacher told everyone to take the rest of the period to get to know their partners. Brendon resisted the urge to groan as Ryan swung to face him.  
  
“I’m so glad we’re partners,” Ryan said, beaming. “I already know you have good taste in music.”  
  
“Oh, thanks. Yeah,” Brendon said, caught off-guard by the compliment. “So… you just moved here.”  
  
“Yep, from Las Vegas. I moved with my dad.”  
  
“Oh, no shit,” Brendon said. “I’m from Vegas, too. I moved here when I was really little, but I go back to visit my grandparents a lot.”  
  
“For real?!” Ryan exclaimed. “Well, this is fate then.”  
  
Ryan winked, and Brendon felt something shift ever so slightly in his chest. Suddenly, Brendon didn’t hate this kid so much. In fact, while Ryan was rattling off all the things he missed about Nevada, Brendon realized that Ryan was intriguing. Mysterious somehow. Brendon chalked it up to the makeup and clothes, but there was something else. Something about the way Ryan didn’t ever stop talking but barely talked about himself. And the way he kept smirking when he mentioned something he thought was funny. By the time Ryan stopped talking about Las Vegas, Brendon realized he had been staring at Ryan’s mouth.  
  
“Sorry,” Ryan said. “I just don’t really get to talk to Vegas out here.”  
  
“Oh, no big deal,” Brendon replied, gathering himself. “I’m sure you miss it.”  
  
“Absolutely. I’m applying to UNLV so I can go back next fall. Do you know where you’re applying to college?”  
  
“No, not really. I’m more interested in playing music than going to college, but my parents are pushing it.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, that sucks. That they’re making you do something you don’t want to, I mean.”  
  
“Are your parents like that?”  
  
“Oh. Well. It’s just me and my dad.”  
  
Ryan looked away. Brendon felt weird, like he’d said something offensive but didn’t know what. And all he wanted to do was find the right words to apologize, but he couldn’t. After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat.  
  
“So do you play instruments or sing, or…?” He knew it was a desperate way to shift the conversation, but he needed to say something.  
  
And Ryan took the bait. His eyes lit up again as he said, “Oh, everything. I sing and play guitar, and I love to write songs.”  
  
“Oh, this’ll be easy then,” Brendon replied. “I play guitar and piano, and I’m a decent writer. So we can write together, and I’ll play instruments and you’ll sing.”  
  
“Great! Piece of cake. I feel like we should meet up once a week to work together. We can work on the songs sometimes and study for the exam sometimes too. I want a really good score on the AP exam.”  
  
“Perfect,” Brendon said, too fast and too loud. He shocked himself at how much he wanted to hang out with Ryan. It was like the longer they were together, the more time Brendon wanted with him. Which was… weird. Too weird. It was too close to… whatever. Brendon didn’t have to think too hard about this. He just wanted to be friends with Ryan. Yeah, that was it. He just wanted to hang out, like he hung out with Bill and Patrick. Maybe Ryan could hang out with all of them. Be one of the guys.  
  
“Brendon? Is that cool?” Ryan asked. Brendon realized he had missed everything Ryan had just said, and yet he somehow had the feeling he had been staring at Ryan’s mouth again.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Is Friday good to meet up? We can go to my house, my dad won’t be home.”  
  
“Yes,” Brendon said slowly, ignoring the way the hair on his neck stood up at the suggestion of Ryan’s dad not being around. What the fuck was going on? They were just studying.  
  
“Cool,” Ryan said, smirking again. The bell rang. “See ya around, Brendon.”  
  
“Yeah, see ya.”   
  
Ryan left class as Brendon gathered his things. They didn’t have any more classes together, but that didn’t stop Brendon from thinking about Ryan all day. He was really excited to get to know more about Ryan. To know everything about him.   
  
He was lost in thought about Ryan when he was at his locker after his last class, so he didn’t realize Patrick was behind him until Patrick tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
“Shit!” Brendon nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to face Patrick. “You scared the crap out of me.”  
  
“Sorry,” Patrick whispered, looking nervous. “Look, Bill told me something really crazy last period. I… I guess I’ll let him tell you himself. But I’m just warning you that he’s gonna need all the support he can get.”  
  
“What?” Brendon asked. Bill was prone to dramatics, but Patrick definitely wasn’t. The way Patrick was acting, all sheepish and worried, was weird. “What’s going on? Did someone die?”  
  
Then Brendon saw Bill come out of the boy’s bathroom and practically run to Brendon’s locker. “Are we going or what?” he said.  
  
“Whoa, Bill, what’s up? Patrick looks like he’s seen a ghost.”  
  
Bill looked around, then leaned in close to Brendon, looking pained.   
  
“Gabe is my creative writing teacher.”


	4. September: William

The week had been, to put it gently, a fucking disaster. William had been so excited to take creative writing and to hang out with Gabe again. And now Gabe – Mr. Saporta – was completely off-limits, and creative writing was an exercise in humiliation. Friday had come far too slowly, but now it was here. William was so ready for the weekend, for a break from real life.  
  
“I think I might still go to Arlo tonight,” Patrick said as he parked in the school parking lot.  
  
“Are you really gonna choose Pete over me?” William asked. “Whatever happened to solidarity?”  
  
“I really wanted to see his band.”  
  
“You have a whole weekend to hang out with him. Can we please just hang out at my house tonight? We’ll keep it chill. There will be no date talk,” William said.  
  
“Fine.” William could see that Patrick was pouting, but he chose to ignore it. Just because everything was going great in Patrick’s life did not mean that Patrick was going to get a pass on being there for him.  
  
“I’m hanging out with Ryan after school, just studying and stuff, so I’ll head to your house after that.”  
  
“We know you’re hanging out with Ryan,” Patrick said. “You’ve mentioned it about a billion times.”  
  
“Well, I just wanted to remind you.”  
  
“Is Ryan your new best friend?” William said. He was teasing, but he noticed that Brendon blushed hard.   
  
“Well, time to enter the pit of doom,” William whined as they went to their locker. William didn’t even know where his own locker was. They had always shared Brendon’s, ever since freshman year when they realized his was the closest one to the cafeteria. Now that they were seniors and could go off-campus to eat, the location didn’t matter as much. But William liked that they still used it. He liked that even as they got older, some things didn’t change.  
  
“Hey, it’ll get better,” Patrick said. “I bet after this weekend it’ll be back to normal.”  
  
“It _is_ normal. That’s the problem,” William huffed. He knew that Gabe – _Mr. Saporta_ – recognized him. The first day of class, they’d made eye contact as William walked in the room and Gabe had choked on his coffee. Since then, he’d barely looked at William. William didn’t expect Gabe to stare longingly at him or anything, but some acknowledgement would have been nice.   
  
“Well maybe something will happen soon, like maybe you’ll meet a new guy,” Patrick said. “I can ask Pete if he knows anyone.”  
  
“No,” William snapped.  
  
“Okay, sorry,” Patrick said.  
  
“No, I’m sorry,” William sighed. He really did appreciate Patrick trying to help out. But the fact was that he was still hung up on Gabe. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop playing the night at Arlo over and over in his head. The way Gabe had kissed him, had implied there would be more than that in the future… it still drove William crazy.  
  
“I gotta get to class,” Brendon said. “Where are we going for lunch?”   
  
“Somewhere nice,” William answered. “Please.”  
  
“Burger King?” Patrick offered.  
  
“Ugh. Fine.”  
  
They split up and went to class. As usual, William spent the whole morning with a pit in his stomach, split between waiting for sixth period to come and hoping that he could find a way to avoid it. Today was going to be especially weird because the students were supposed to get their first assignment back. William had spent a long time on it. The prompt was to tell a story about something they’ll miss from the summer. William had wanted to write about Arlo, about seeing shitty bands and buying beers with a fake I.D. and going to the diner after to laugh about it all. But he’d felt weird writing that – he felt like Gabe was too close to that story. He’d wondered if Gabe might worry that William was trying to send him a message. So he wrote something about writing songs in Patrick’s bedroom one afternoon. He knew it wasn’t a great story, but he had to go with it.   
  
William ate onion rings for lunch. He listened to Patrick babble about Pete and Brendon wonder how to get closer to Sarah Orzechowski. He wondered for the trillionth time in his life how it must feel for Brendon, a relatively popular, conventionally attractive (if not a little emo) straight guy, to have two gay best friends. He knew Brendon didn’t care. They had been friends before anyone knew what sexuality even was. But he hoped that Brendon didn’t feel like he was missing out on anything. He also hoped Brendon wasn’t trying to be friends with Ryan because he thought Ryan was straight. That kid was _definitely_ at least a little homosexual.  
  
Finally, _finally_ , it was sixth period. William’s body hummed as he sat at his desk and tried not to stare at Gabe’s ass while Gabe wrote something on the board. Gabe always wore slacks that were just a little snug, and it drove William crazy. The second Gabe turned around, William looked down at his notebook.   
  
The class went by quickly. Gabe gave a lecture on James Joyce and how every short story in Dubliners has an epiphany. He assigned a few of the stories to read over the weekend.   
  
“Okay,” Gabe said when there were only five minutes left of class. “I appreciate your first efforts with these stories. As you know, we’re going to try to move away from nonfiction and move toward fiction in this class, so I appreciated how many of you turned this prompt into a story writing exercise instead of just writing an essay. Please look closely at my comments. From now on, I’ll give you a prompt on Monday and you’ll turn it in on Friday. You’ll get it back on Monday when you get the new prompt. So no writing homework this weekend.”  
  
Then he started returning the exercises one by one. William’s chest warmed. Gabe was going to come to his _desk_. He was going to have to make eye contact or say something to him. William felt… giddy.  
  
But when Gabe came to William’s desk, he looked down at his stack of papers. He tossed William’s exercise onto the desk without a look or a word. William’s heart sank.  
  
When the bell rang, William shuffled to his next class, which was right next door. He looked through his exercise. There weren’t many comments on the exercise, until the last page.  
  
 _Will – excellent effort, but I wonder if this is the story you wanted to write. Please see me after the end of the school day to discuss. B+.  
  
_ William’s heart soared. Gabe had called him “Will”- which no one else did. He had also ASKED TO SEE WILLIAM AFTER SCHOOL. This was huge. This was exciting.  
  
He sat through his last two classes and sent a quick text to Brendon and Patrick letting them know he would be a few minutes late to the locker. He went to the bathroom to make sure he looked decent. He confidently strode to Gabe’s classroom. But when he got to the door he froze. He suddenly felt nervous, like he was about to be yelled at. He swallowed and crept into the classroom.  
  
Gabe was sitting behind his desk, reading. He had taken off his tie and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the contrast between his tan skin and his baby blue shirt. William had to fight not to physically swoon. He cleared his throat.  
  
“Ga- Mr. Saporta?”  
  
Gabe looked up. “Ah, William. Close the door and come on in.”  
  
Will did as he was told. He stood by Gabe’s desk, and Gabe came out from behind it. He crossed his arms and looked around.  
  
“Look, I just thought it would be a good idea to talk about… all this.”  
  
William nodded. He suddenly had the feeling this conversation wasn’t going to go the way he wanted it to.   
  
“I read your story and it seemed – I don’t know, like you were holding back. Like you had picked a memory at random instead of picking what you actually wanted to write about.”  
  
William nodded again.  
  
“So do you want to talk about what you did want to write about?”  
  
“Is that… appropriate?” William asked.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Well, you know how I spent my Friday nights this summer. So I just didn’t think it was appropriate to write about… you know, drinking, and…”  
  
“And kissing your teachers?”  
  
William felt himself blush. He could feel his heartbeat in his head. He couldn’t believe Gabe was talking about this right now. Talking about it made it… real.  
  
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”  
  
Gabe sat on his desk. William could see Gabe trying to hide a smile as he said, “I don’t think I’ve had anything this complicated happen to me. Ever.”  
  
“Me either.”  
  
“You were buying beer. How did you get in the club if you weren’t 21?”  
  
William smirked. “I get along with the bouncer.”  
  
“Jesus Christ.” Gabe couldn’t hide his smile anymore, and he broke into a grin for a second before becoming serious again. “Listen, last Friday was… good. It was a really good night. But I’m your teacher, you know?”  
  
William sighed. “Yeah. I know.”  
  
“And obviously we don’t know a whole lot about each other if I didn’t know you were a student and you didn’t know I was a teacher. So I just wanted to say… I think we should leave it in the past. Ya know?”  
  
“Um.” William did not want to leave it in the past. He wanted to talk about the future. “I guess. I mean, you’re sure?”  
  
Gabe laughed. William remembered how much he loved Gabe’s laugh. “Am I sure? I don’t know. But I do know we can’t do this. I’m 25, you’re, what, 17?”  
  
“18.”  
  
“Even so. You’re my _student_. It’s wrong. It can’t happen.”  
  
William felt dizzy and out of control. For the first time in years, he wanted to throw a fit. “But don’t you want it to?” he whined.  
  
Gabe frowned. “Will. It doesn’t matter if I want it to. You can’t talk to me that way, not anymore. I promise to forget that you have a fake I.D. and go to clubs if you promise to… forget this.”  
  
William felt himself pouting. He didn’t know what he expected from this conversation, but it definitely wasn’t this.  
  
“You’re a really good writer, by the way,” Gabe said. “You could definitely have a future with this.”  
  
“Yeah, imagine how good I am when I’m writing about the things I actually want to write about,” William snapped, looking at the ground.  
  
“Hey.” Gabe’s tone was suddenly firm. “Look, I know we didn’t want to be in this position, but we are. The least you could do is be mature about it. Do you want me to go the whole school year without complementing your work? Because I can do that. I don’t want to, but I can. We’re stuck in the same classroom for an hour every day. I am trying to make this easier on us. On you.”  
  
William groaned. “Please spare me. This sucks and you know it! What would be easier is if we could… if we…”  
  
William couldn’t finish his sentence. He could feel that he and Gabe were dancing around something, and he didn’t think he could cross the line they’d created. He looked at Gabe for a long time. He had never felt this insanely desperate before.  
  
“I just. I listen to you in class and I wish you were just talking to me. And I wish I could tell you about the books that I’m reading or the books that I want to write.”  
  
“You can still talk to me about those things. As my student,” Gabe said.  
  
“Can you please talk to me for two minutes without referring to the fact that I’m a student?” William whined, frustrated.  
  
Gabe sighed. “No,” he said, softening. “I wish I could. I wish we could have a normal conversation about this. Actually, I wish we could…” Gabe paused and cleared his throat. “I wish I could see you as something other than my student. But I can’t. And you can’t see me as anything other than your teacher. I’m sorry it has to be this way. I wanted to do you the favor of giving this a little closure, and I’m sorry that it’s making you more frustrated. I am really, really, really sorry.”  
  
William knew the conversation was over. And what had he expected? That Gabe was going to say nothing mattered, that they could be together, that he liked William so much that he would risk it all to be with him? What a ridiculous idea. William was 18 now. He needed to stop being so dramatic, so… romantic.  
  
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m gonna head out.”  
  
“Alright. Have a good weekend, Will.”  
  
William smiled. “You know, nobody else calls me Will.”  
  
Gabe smiled too. The air between them changed, just for a minute. There was energy between them, like the energy between them when they met. It made William smile wider. Gabe got up and moved closer to William, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.   
  
“I think I’m gonna keep calling you Will,” Gabe whispered. And he winked.  
  
William’s mouth went dry. Gabe was close enough that William could reach out and hold him, could kiss him again.  
  
Instead, William smiled and walked out of the classroom. As he walked toward the parking lot where Patrick and Brendon were waiting for him, he replayed the conversation over and over in his head. Gabe had said it was over.  
  
But somehow, William didn’t quite believe him.


	5. October: Patrick

Arlo was packed tonight, but Patrick, Bill, Brendon, and Ryan were on the barricade because Patrick had insisted that they all get to the club right when the doors opened. Pete had pouted when Patrick had told him he wanted to watch the show with his friends instead of on the side of the stage, and Patrick had promised Pete that he would be right in the front of the crowd.  
  
“I am looking to get laid tonight if it kills me,” Bill declared for the fifth time, downing his beer.  
  
“Are you coming to the afterparty? There are gonna be lots of guys there,” Ryan said.   
  
“Yes. I’m gonna get over this whole Mr. Saporta thing by getting under literally anyone that isn’t him.”  
  
Patrick sipped his beer. He was sad for Bill, who by all accounts was having a shitty start to his Senior year. But he really couldn’t relate. He had a boyfriend who was older and experienced but didn’t pressure him to do anything. He and Pete hung out every weekend- sometimes all weekend. They went to movies and concerts and the mall, and they had even hung out a few times at Pete’s apartment. Even though they hadn’t had sex, they had done most everything else, and Pete was always great about making Patrick feel good and comfortable. And Patrick really really liked hooking up. He couldn’t believe it had taken him seventeen years to fool around with anyone.   
  
And on top of his boyfriend, he still had Brendon and Bill, and now Ryan was hanging out with them too. It was shaping up to be a pretty good year.  
  
“What about you, Brendon?” Patrick asked. “Are you making any moves tonight?” Patrick knew Brendon was eyeing that Sarah girl, and honestly he was tired of being the only one in a relationship.   
  
Brendon shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “It depends on who shows up to the afterparty.”   
  
Patrick saw Brendon glance at Ryan before taking a sip of his beer. Brendon had been looking at Ryan a lot tonight. In fact, Ryan had taken up a lot of space in Brendon’s life recently. If Patrick didn’t know Brendon so well, he’d assume Brendon had a crush. But Patrick knew that wasn’t possible. Brendon was totally straight. If he had spent his whole life with Patrick and Bill and hadn’t come out by now, it was very unlikely that he was going to now. Patrick just chalked it up to his ability to read queerness into every situation.  
  
“When is this show starting?” Bill huffed.  
  
“Hey, I get that you’re going through it right now, but can you not be a negative Nancy? Just for tonight?” Brendon replied. “You’ve been acting like a 12-year-old for, like, three weeks.”  
  
Bill glared at Brendon for about ten seconds, and then he softened. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll try to chill out.”  
  
“Don’t worry about him,” Patrick said to Ryan. “He’s prone to dramatics and brooding, especially after breakups.”  
  
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Ryan said. “It’s not a big deal. I know what it’s like to have a guy get away.”  
  
Patrick noticed Brendon shoot another glance at Ryan, but he barely cared. He was thinking about how he didn’t have any experience with guys getting away, because his first boyfriend liked him so much that Patrick just couldn’t see them breaking up. He smiled. He didn’t like feeling so superior, but he definitely did feel a little superior.  
  
The lights went down on the stage. Patrick felt a rush of pride as everyone cheered. He knew they were cheering for Pete, easily the most talented and most attractive member of his band, which was easily the most talented and most attractive band that played at Arlo. Patrick thought again about how lucky he was, that the god on the stage right now would want to have anything to do with him. Eventually he stopped thinking about anything and let himself get lost in the crowd and the music. But he did notice every time Pete winked at him from the stage.  
  
The show was incredible. Patrick couldn’t remember when they had played that well. After they played their final song, Pete blew a kiss to Patrick. Patrick smiled and let the girls behind him think it was for them.  
  
“Alright, I’m gonna go back there,” Patrick said as soon as the lights went up.  
  
“What the fuck? There’s another band playing,” Brendon said.  
  
“Yeah, but Pete won’t come out here to watch it. He’ll want to watch it from the side of the stage.”  
  
“Okay, but we’re out here,” William said.  
  
“Yeah, but Pete…”  
  
“Yeah yeah yeah, he’s your boyfriend. We get it. I know he’s your first boyfriend, so let me enlighten you. You have to split your time, my friend. You gotta make sure everyone in your life is getting your attention, including your best friends,” William said.  
  
“That’s true. Plus we haven’t been to a show together since the fucking summer,” Brendon complained. “You can’t abandon us in the middle of the game.”  
  
Patrick knew they were right. He rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Pete: _Hey, the guys want me to watch with them. See you after?  
  
No prob, meet me back here after, _Pete replied.  
  
Patrick bullshitted with his friends while they waited for the next band. They talked about boys and girls and classes and who they thought would show up to Ryan’s party tonight. And when the next band came on, he danced around and had a good time. But Patrick was still just thinking about Pete. He didn’t want to abandon his friends to hang out with him, but that didn’t stop him from counting the minutes till he could go backstage. Sometimes Patrick felt a little crazy because of how much he liked Pete, but he knew Pete liked him just as much, so he didn’t care.  
  
Finally, the show ended. Brendon, Bill, and Ryan, who were all going to the party together, said goodbye to Patrick and followed the crowd toward the back door. Patrick waited a little bit for the crowd to thin out and then went backstage. The bouncer already knew him by face and let him through. Patrick was so full of anticipation that he felt like a balloon. He wanted to see Pete so badly.  
  
When he opened the door to the green room, he saw Pete sitting on a bar stool in the corner. A guy Patrick had never seen before was standing in front of Pete with his back to Patrick. In fact, he was standing really close to Pete. And Pete had one of his legs hooked around this guy’s legs. Pete was smiling and the guy was laughing at something. Patrick suddenly got the horrible feeling he had walked in on something.  
  
Pete saw Patrick and his smile got a little wider. “Trickster!” he shouted, untangling himself from the mystery man and standing up. “I’ve been waiting for you.”  
  
“Hey,” Patrick said. “Sorry I couldn’t come backstage.”  
  
“That’s okay. I got to meet Jack.” Pete looked at the guy he had been talking to and winked. “He’s a friend of one of the tech guys. Jack, this is Patrick. Patrick, Jack.”  
  
“Hey,” Jack said. He was tall and skinny, and he had a patch of bleached hair that was obviously professionally done. This guy was definitely Pete’s age, and definitely in the scene in a way that Patrick wasn’t. Patrick felt immediately threatened.  
  
“Hi,” Patrick said. “Pete, they’re waiting for us at Ryan’s, so.”  
  
“Alright, I’m ready,” Pete responded. He looked back at Jack. “We should hang out. You have my number.”  
  
When Pete walked out of the green room, he didn’t take Patrick’s hand. He didn’t even talk to Patrick until they got to Pete’s car and Pete kissed him before unlocking the door. “Did you have a good time tonight?” Pete asked, innocent as ever.  
  
“Yeah,” Patrick said. He was confused and a little angry. Had he totally made up the scene that he walked in on?  
  
“I really felt like we were on fire tonight. The crowd was eating it up.”  
  
“Yeah,” Patrick said again.  
  
On the ride to Ryan’s, Pete talked about how he felt about the show and how he wanted to branch out from the Chicago scene, maybe try to do a small tour. He babbled away about the band and his plans. Patrick was barely listening. He couldn’t get the image of Pete’s leg around that Jack guy out of his mind. He knew he hadn’t made it up. He knew it happened. But why was Pete acting like it hadn’t? Did he expect Patrick to ignore it?  
  
“You okay?” Pete asked as he parked the car in front of Ryan’s. “You haven’t said much tonight.”  
  
Patrick figured he should be cool about what happened. If Pete had wanted to talk about it, he would have brought it up. Maybe Patrick was overreacting. He should just let it go.  
  
But on the other hand, maybe he shouldn’t. “What was going on with that Jack guy?”   
  
Pete frowned. “I told you, he was there with the tech guys.”  
  
“I know that. But you were, like, really close to him when I went in the green room.”  
  
Pete laughed. “Well, yeah, we were just messing around.”  
  
“ _Messing around_? You were all over him!”  
  
“I wouldn’t say I was all over him. I was all over you the first time we hung out. I wasn’t doing that to Jack.”  
  
Patrick felt like he was in crazy town. Was Pete comparing hanging out with Jack tonight to his first date with Patrick? “Why is how you act with me relevant at all?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Why are you trying to compare how you act around your boyfriend to how you act around some random guy?”  
  
Even though it was dark, Patrick could see Pete’s expression change immediately. The smile dropped off of his mouth and his brow furrowed.  
  
“Um, Patrick,” Pete said, his voice low. “I think you’ve misunderstood something here.”  
  
Patrick felt his heart drop into his stomach. He turned away from Pete. He could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. He thought he might throw up. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“Uh… Jesus, I don’t know how we even got here… I don’t consider you my boyfriend. I mean, we’re just hanging out, just having fun.”  
  
This was it. Patrick was definitely going to throw up. “Oh.”  
  
“We’ve only known each other, what, a few weeks? A month? I didn’t think this was anything serious.”  
  
“Oh my god.” Patrick felt dizzy. He feverishly racked his brain to think of a time, any time, that Pete had referred to Patrick as his boyfriend or referred to anything they did as a date. And he couldn’t. How could he be so stupid?  
  
“I obviously like you a lot,” Pete said. “I came here tonight with you. And I wanted to hang out with you at the show, but you were hanging out with your friends.”  
  
“Have you been… _hanging out_ with other people the whole time you’ve been hanging out with me?”  
  
“No, it’s not like that,” Pete replied. “I don’t look for other people. I don’t try to hang out with anyone. I flirt a little, and if it goes somewhere I let it. But I’ve been flirting less since I’ve been hanging out with you.”  
  
Patrick finally looked at Pete. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t like being tied down and I don’t like labels, but like I said, I really really like you, Patrick.”  
  
Patrick took a deep breath. Pete did like him. Pete really liked him. Something deep in his gut told him that he should be paying more attention to the other things Pete said, but he shook that feeling off.  
  
“So, what is this then?” Patrick asked.  
  
Pete took Patrick’s hand. “Come on, we’re about to go to a party and have a fun night. Do you really want to have this super heavy conversation right now?”   
  
Patrick was silent. He _did_ want to have the conversation, but something told him that saying as much wouldn’t be the right move.  
  
“Let’s go have some fun,” Pete whispered. He leaned over to the passenger seat and kissed Patrick. Patrick melted into the kiss and pressed himself close to Pete. There were definitely things Patrick wanted to say, but if Pete kept kissing Patrick like this, long and slow and sweet, then maybe Patrick would be okay without saying those things.  
  
After what seemed like ages, Pete pulled away and smiled. “You’re my number one guy, Trickster. You ready to have a good time?”  
  
Patrick nodded. When they got out of the car, Pete took Patrick’s hand. When they entered Ryan’s house, Pete didn’t let go. When Bill found them, Pete hung around and put his hand in Patrick’s back pocket. It was clear to everyone at the party that Pete and Patrick were here together. Patrick forced himself to let that be enough.


	6. October: Brendon

“I call it Redrum ‘cause it’s red and has rum in it,” Ryan shouted, handing Brendon a solo cup filled to the brim with a sweet-smelling drink. Ryan had shouted into Brendon’s ear, and feeling Ryan’s breath on his neck made Brendon shiver. He was probably already drunk.  
  
“What’s the red stuff?” Brendon asked. Ryan wasn’t moving away from Brendon, but Brendon wasn’t moving either, so Brendon couldn’t get upset.  
  
“Hi-C.” Ryan smiled and stepped away from Brendon, who suddenly felt cold. Ryan tapped his solo cup against Brendon’s and started drinking. Brendon smiled and brought his cup to his mouth. He missed his mouth and spilled red drink on his shirt. Okay, he was definitely already drunk.  
  
He turned around when he heard a laugh from the couch behind him. Sarah was sitting there with Audrey, another girl in their music theory class who was very into student theater and was currently smoking a blunt and looking very irritated.  
  
“Doing okay over there, Urie?” Sarah said. She was barely audible over the music, but she wasn’t really trying to shout over it. She looked amazing, from her strappy gray dress and black Doc Martens to her bright red lips, which were currently arranged in a smirk.  
  
Brendon smirked back. He had spent the last few weeks laying the groundwork with Sarah, and they’d already built up a flirty banter. He saw her looking at him in music theory all the time. Tonight would be the perfect night to try and make a move. It fit perfectly in his Halloween timeline.  
  
“I’m feeling great, Sarah. How are you? You’re looking a little bored.”  
  
Sarah shrugged, still smiling. “I’m doing okay.” She took the blunt from Audrey and took a hit. “Want some?” she asked.  
  
Brendon shook his head. “I’m good with just the one substance tonight,” he said, pointing at his cup.  
  
“Ryan?” Sarah said, offering the blunt over.  
  
Ryan grinned. “What kind of host would I be if I said no?”  
  
In one fluid motion, he moved toward the couch, sat on the arm, took a hit, and gave it back to Audrey. Brendon had been to a few get-togethers at Ryan’s house, but this one was easily the biggest, and Brendon could tell that Ryan loved playing host. He’d said hi to everyone he made eye contact with, even people Brendon was sure Ryan didn’t actually know. He’d spent the last two hours drinking and laughing and chatting with almost everyone, and even as the house got more and more crowded, Ryan didn’t lose his cool. It was incredible to watch, which Brendon had ample opportunity to do. Even if Ryan needed to get a refill on drinks or got carried away by the crowd, he always found his way back to Brendon. It filled Brendon with a pride that he didn’t want to analyze.  
  
“Come sit!” Sarah exclaimed, pushing against Audrey to make a space big enough for Brendon to sit in between her and Ryan. Brendon realized he had been staring at Ryan. It wasn’t a new sensation – Brendon had been catching himself more and more in the past few weeks.  
  
Brendon grinned and sat down. He took a sip of his drink, which thankfully landed in his mouth this time. “So, is this your first time at Ryan’s?” Brendon asked. He already knew the answer, because he was always at Ryan’s, but it seemed like a good idea to keep that information to himself.  
  
“Yeah,” Sarah said. “Your house is amazing, Ryan!”  
  
“Thanks,” Ryan said. “My dad’s a banker.”  
  
“It’s so big,” Sarah replied. “There are a ton of people here tonight.”  
  
“Well you’re in the center of the action,” Ryan replied. “The closer everyone is to the speaker, the crazier they get, and the speaker is right over there.”  
  
Ryan pointed to the other end of the living room. Brendon could see that Ryan was right. There was a sea in front of them of kids dancing with each other, sharing drinks and weed, and making out.  
  
“That’s sort of the vibe I’m going for,” Ryan continued. “No holds barred kind of thing. High school is so draining and constricting, so we should be able to let loose as much as possible.”  
  
“Wow,” Audrey said. Brendon noticed that she didn’t look irritated anymore, and she was making very intense eye contact with Ryan. “You’re gonna be a legend by the end of the year.”  
  
“Maybe,” Ryan said, in a way that made Brendon think he was trying to hide his excitement.  
  
“So Brendon, what are the rest of your plans this weekend?” Sarah asked, her voice low. Brendon knew she was trying to be coy. And she was doing a great job. Brendon smiled. Maybe he’d met his match.  
  
“Tomorrow I’m going to sleep off the hangover I’m definitely going to have. But I could probably be convinced to wake up early if I had breakfast plans.”  
  
“I like breakfast,” Sarah said.  
  
“Me too.”  
  
Audrey handed the blunt to Sarah again. Brendon saw that Audrey was still staring at Ryan. What was up with that?  
  
“Man, I am already so stoned,” Sarah giggled before taking another hit. She smiled at Brendon as she blew smoke out of her mouth. “You sure you don’t want?”  
  
Brendon smiled and nodded. He had been drinking so much – three beers at the show and who knows how many mixed drinks here – and the smell of weed and Ryan’s cologne was already making him feel lightheaded enough. He needed to stay on his game.  
  
Sarah held the blunt out for Ryan. Ryan leaned over Brendon to take it. He was wearing a loose-fitting black button down with the top three buttons undone, and Brendon caught a glimpse inside of it. Ryan was so thin, and his skin was so pale. Brendon thought he could see Ryan’s ribs. His mouth suddenly went dry. He had to physically stop himself from gasping. What the fuck was going on?  
  
“You’ve been here for a while, right?” Ryan asked after taking a hit. “If you’re just sitting on the couch smoking all night, people might get ideas about you two.”  
  
“Like what, that we’re gay? Does that bother you?” Audrey said, although she didn’t sound mad.  
  
“No,” Ryan laughed. “I’ve been known to dabble in same-sex relations. I meant more like… that you’re antisocial. Sorry if I offended you.”  
  
“It’s totally fine,” Sarah said. “There are always rumors about me and Audrey being gay.”  
  
“Yeah, and antisocial,” Audrey added.  
  
“It doesn’t bother you? That people think you’re together when you’re just friends, I mean?” Brendon asked, finishing his drink.  
  
“Nah,” Sarah said. “We don’t care. It’s mostly guys who think it would be super hot for us to hook up, ya know? Would it bother you if people thought you and Bill were hooking up? Or you and Ryan?”  
  
“THAT would be hot,” Audrey giggled.  
  
Brendon blushed hard. Hooking up with Bill and hooking up with Ryan were two… totally different things. He would never think about hooking up with Bill anyway. Not that he would think about hooking up with Ryan, either. But the way he felt when he saw under Ryan’s shirt…  
  
Suddenly, the music in the living room changed. “Holy shit, we love this song!” Sarah shouted, grabbing Audrey’s hand. They rushed into the crowd that was forming near the speakers.  
  
“I feel like they want us to follow them,” Brendon said to no one in particular.  
  
“Then who are we to deny them?” Ryan asked. He stood up and began making his way into the crowd. Brendon followed.  
  
They found Audrey and Sarah dancing in the center of the crowd. Sarah grabbed Brendon’s wrist. “I thought you’d never find us,” she shouted over the music.  
  
“You got pretty deep in the crowd,” Brendon shouted back. He tried to maneuver closer to Sarah, but she pushed closer to Audrey.  
  
“Sorry,” she said. “This song is for me and Audrey.”  
  
Sarah and Audrey pushed close together and started dancing, moving their hips together to the beat, Audrey’s hand on Sarah’s thigh. Brendon had seen girls dance together like this before, but he was already so drunk and so out of it from their conversation that he couldn’t help staring. He thought his eyes might pop out of his head.  
  
Sarah looked at him and laughed. “Are you doing okay over there?”  
  
“Yeah, you’ve got your own partner,” Audrey said, motioning toward Ryan.  
  
Toward Ryan.  
  
“What do you say?” Ryan shouted, smiling at Brendon. Brendon just looked at Ryan. He had never done this before. He and Ryan were close – they spent all their time together, and Brendon thought about Ryan all the time when they weren’t together. But something was shifting tonight, moving out of the friendship territory they had built into something… else. Something new that Brendon had no experience with. And he felt like dancing with Ryan would push everything right over the edge.  
  
But something made Brendon nod, and suddenly Ryan’s hands were around his waist and his hips were pressed into Brendon’s. Brendon put his arms around Ryan’s shoulders and started to move, moving his hips in small circles against Ryan’s.  
  
“Wow,” Audrey said, giggling. But Brendon almost didn’t hear. He was too busy staring at Ryan, making intense eye contact, and trying to regulate his breathing.  
  
Ryan smiled and leaned into Brendon. “Is this a first for you?” he whispered against Brendon’s ear, and something in Ryan’s voice sent a chill down Brendon’s spine. Ryan smelled so good, like Hi-C and weed and whatever his cologne was. And this felt good too. Ryan was a good dancer, and Brendon liked the way Ryan felt next to him. He moved his hands from Ryan’s shoulders to his waist.  
  
“Oh,” Ryan whispered, gripping Brendon’s waist tighter and rolling his hips into Brendon. Brendon fought the urge to moan. Instead, he rolled his hips into Ryan. He felt like he was going crazy. He felt like he needed more contact, like he _wanted_ Ryan in a way that he didn’t fully understand.  
  
Ryan rested his head on Brendon’s shoulder and moved one of his hands to the small of Brendon’s back to pull Brendon closer. Brendon grunted involuntarily as he kept grinding against Ryan. He heard Ryan laugh, but he didn’t care. His whole body felt like it was lit up. All he wanted to do was feel more of Ryan and keep indulging in… whatever this feeling was.  
  
While they danced, Brendon pressed his cheek against Ryan’s. He angled his face so that the corner of his mouth rested against Ryan’s skin. It drove him insane. He knew he wanted more, but he let himself focus on the way it felt to be this close. Ryan balled the fabric of Brendon’s shirt in his fist and rolled his hips against Brendon, and Brendon felt that Ryan was hard. “Fuck,” he whispered, letting his lips graze against Ryan’s cheek, so close to Ryan’s mouth. He liked feeling like he was pushing the boundary of his friendship with Ryan, and he liked feeling like Ryan wanted it. He realized that he’d wanted this all night. Maybe all school year.  
  
The realization struck him hard. He suddenly felt completely sober. He was achingly aware of his own erection, of the heat of Ryan’s breath against him, of how absurdly close they were. There were so many people in this room who could have seen them. Sarah was right next to him. He had almost forgotten her.  
  
The music changed, giving Brendon an excuse to pull away. Ryan was smiling at him, but he thankfully let go. “That was… really fun,” Ryan said.  
  
Brendon didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have time to respond because Sarah grabbed his hand and said, “Oh my god, that was so hot, you guys.”  
  
“It was?” Brendon asked.  
  
“Yeah, definitely. What, it wasn’t hot when we were dancing?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. It definitely was.”  
  
Sarah giggled. “I think I need a drink. Wanna make me one?” she asked.  
  
Brendon smiled. “Yeah, that would be great.”  
  
Sarah turned toward the kitchen and started leading Brendon out of the crowd. Brendon knew he should be happy. This is what he wanted. He was finally making headway with Sarah.  
  
But he still turned to glance at Ryan, who was watching him walk away with an expression that Brendon was too afraid to interpret.


	7. October: William

William sat on Ryan’s front porch and finished his beer. He had no clue where his friends were; Patrick had gone off with Pete about 15 minutes after they got to the party and Brendon and Ryan were moving around so much that William couldn’t keep up with him. Not that he cared whre his friends were anyway. He’d come out to try and get over Mr. Saporta, to try to remember what it felt like to be with his friends and not hung up on some guy. But Patrick was dating someone, and Brendon was _definitely_ into Ryan in a way that William was reluctant to bring up. Everything was changing already. William wished that the night he met Gabe wasn’t objectively one of the best nights of his life. He had had such a great night with Patrick and Brendon, and it really felt like everything was going to stay the same. But here they were, at one of the first major parties of the year, and they were all doing separate things, thinking about separate people.  
  
William was so tired of this party. He was tired of the loud music and the freshmen who were making fools of themselves on the front lawn. He thought about trying to find Brendon so that he could get a ride home, but he knew Brendon wasn’t going to leave, and he was probably too drunk to drive anyway. Suddenly, William had a horrible thought that his friends wouldn’t miss him if he left the party.  
  
Then he had the thought that that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He was hungry anyway, and someone had seriously under-ordered food for this party. He got up and started toward the pizza place he knew was down the street. Maybe what he needed was just some quiet, a little alone time. He figured he could go grab a slice, eat it, and be back in the mood to party. Hopefully the younger kids would be gone by the time he got back.  
  
On the walk to the restaurant, he reached into his pockets for some cigarettes before remembering he had quit. God, quitting sucked. He missed cigarettes, the way there was always something to do with your hands, the excuse to hang out outside between class periods. Mostly though, he missed them because he missed Gabe. William could still feel in his chest how close they had gotten to something. He looked out at the Chicago skyline, just barely visible from the suburban street he was walking down. He thought about the things Gabe would say about Chicago, the things they would do together in the city. But all of that was in another life. He knew it was so stupid to think about because they had spent exactly three hours with each other. But he really felt like Gabe could’ve been different.  
  
The line at the restaurant was long. Lots of people had the same idea about a late-night slice. William didn’t care. He liked the alone time. He knew he was being so pissy recently, and he liked any opportunity to sort out all the thoughts in his head. He waited, ordered his cheese pizza, and went outside to the curb to eat it. He was eating his slice, chewing slowly while thinking about whether it was even worth it to go back to Arlo again, when he heard a familiar voice say, “Will?”  
  
William whipped his head in the voice’s direction. He couldn’t fucking believe his eyes. Gabe was standing in front of him, alone, in ripped jeans and a bomber jacket that looked impossibly good. Had William willed this into existence? Maybe he would have to start making vision boards.  
  
“Hey,” he said, trying so hard to sound cool.  
  
“What are you doing out here?” Gabe asked.  
  
“Oh. Uh, there’s a party down the street, but there wasn’t food left. What about you?”  
  
“I live above the restaurant. I’m coming home from a date.”  
  
William looked at Gabe, exerting superhuman effort to not change his expression at the mention of a date. He could feel his heart dropping out of his body. Jesus fucking Christ.  
  
“Uh, you know, I mean obviously it didn’t go so well,” Gabe said, clearly feeling awkward. William just shrugged.  
  
“You win some, you lose some,” he said, hoping to god that he sounded as biting as he felt.  
  
“Yeah.” The silence between them was heavy. William wasn’t even sure if it was appropriate to take another bite of his pizza. Why was it that all William wanted was to see Gabe alone, and yet every time he did it went the worst possible way?  
  
“Listen, do you wanna come up for a second? I could grab a slice and we could eat together if you want.”  
  
“We’re in public. What if someone sees me go in?” William hated how sarcastic he was being, but he also liked it a lot.  
  
“If you don’t want to eat together, just tell me.”  
  
William was quiet for a second. Then he asked, “Are you only offering to eat with me because you put your foot in your mouth by telling me about your date?”  
  
Gabe laughed, and all the tension melted. William smiled. Maybe this could be good.  
  
“Pleading the fifth on that one. Will you just come up?”  
  
William nodded. He waited on the curb while Gabe ordered. When Gabe got his slice, he brought William to the back of the building, opened a door by the parking lot, and brought William up a very long staircase to his apartment.  
  
Gabe’s apartment was a studio, and it felt even smaller because of the sheer amount of books taking up space everywhere. There were bookshelves on every wall, piles by the bed and the couch, and stacks on the counter and the very small desk that was crammed into the corner of the room. “Welcome to Casa Saporta,” Gabe said with a flourish. “Soda and beer in the fridge if you want any. Unfortunately I only have, like, three places to sit right now. I didn’t think anyone would be coming over.”  
  
“Yeah, this is… a lot of books.”  
  
“I’m an English teacher, what can I say?” Gabe threw himself on the couch. “So, was your party as bad as my date?”  
  
William stood awkwardly in the center of the room, trying to figure out where he should go. The bed was out, for obvious reasons, and he was nervous about sitting on the same piece of furniture as Gabe. He decided to sit in the chair at the desk, which was awkward, but then this whole thing was awkard. “Yeah, I guess,” William said. “I don’t know, there were a lot of younger kids there. I’ve been to parties, I know what it’s like. I guess it’s just not fun anymore.”  
  
“Hey, don’t grow up too fast,” Gabe said. “You’ve only got one more year of high school. You don’t want to spend it looking ahead at the next thing. You’ll regret doing that.”  
  
William nodded. He couldn’t tell if Gabe was trying to be his teacher or his friend. He took another bite of his pizza. “So… bad date?”  
  
“Yeah,” Gabe said. “They’ve all been pretty bad recently. What about you? Anyone you’ve got your eye on?”  
  
“Um,” William said, almost choking on his pizza, “Are we really talking about this?”  
  
Gabe furrowed his brow. “Sorry,” he said. “I just…” he didn’t talk for a few very long seconds. That feeling in William’s chest from earlier came back, like all he needed to do was press forward for just a few more seconds and then a wall would break. But then Gabe shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, and took a bite of his pizza.  
  
They ate in silence for a little while. William’s head was pounding. He was trying to be normal, but he wanted to look at everything. He wanted to know every book that was in this apartment, what type of shampoo Gabe used, what kind of food was in his fridge. He wanted to get as much out of this time as he could. He didn’t know how he got so lucky.  
  
He looked down at Gabe’s desk to see his own handwriting staring back at him. His writing assignment from the week was at the top of the stack of papers Gabe was grading. “Did you like it?” William asked, motioning toward the story.  
  
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, what I’ve read so far. Writing about meeting your best friends is an interesting spin on the ‘a family moment you’ll never forget’ prompt.”  
  
“Well, they are my family. They’re my brothers, you know.”  
  
“You don’t want to write about your actual family?”  
  
William shrugged. “My family’s great. Really supportive and sweet. But they work a lot. I don’t hang out at home. My parents go to graduations and celebrate Christmas and stuff, but that’s what everyone was going to write about. I wanted to write about something different. My parents aren’t the people who see what really makes me who I am. Patrick and Brendon are.”  
  
Gabe was staring at William, looking deep into William’s eyes. It made William uncomfortable and excited, like a balloon just about to pop.  
  
“That’s… very wise, Will,” Gabe whispered. There was a huskiness in his voice that made William shiver. Suddenly, William was very aware of how alone the two of them were. He had the feeling that anything could happen right now, like he had walked into a magic moment and he needed to take advantage of it. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.  
  
“Gabe,” he said, so soft he wasn’t sure if Gabe had heard. It was the first time he had said Gabe’s name out loud to anyone in weeks.  
  
He opened his eyes, and Gabe was still staring at him. He hadn’t moved. He looked like he was breathing hard. They started at each other for what felt like hours. _Please_ , William begged silently, _please do something_.  
  
“This was a bad idea,” Gabe said finally. He looked crushed, but that didn’t do anything to help how angry William was.  
  
“You have GOT to be kidding me.”  
  
“I don’t know what I was thinking, but you shouldn’t be here. Aren’t you supposed to be at a party right now? What will your friends think?”  
  
“My friends are drunk. And even if they weren’t, I can guarantee you they wouldn’t think I was with you, because you repeatedly make yourself very clear about how fucking awful it is to be around me.”  
  
“Will, I’m sorry. I –“  
  
“Save it. I’m out of here,” William said. He threw his pizza on the desk and got up. “And my name is William. Literally nobody calls me Will. Don’t do that anymore.”  
  
It took two steps across the apartment to get to the front door. He stomped down the stairs and into the cold autumn air. How could he be so fucking stupid? What did he think was gonna happen, Gabe was just gonna fuck him because they saw each other at a pizza restaurant? He needed to get back to the party. He needed alcohol and a fucking _cigarette_ and-  
  
“Wait,” Gabe’s voice rang out behind him in the parking lot. William turned around. “Come back upstairs for a minute.”  
  
William walked up to Gabe. He got as close as he could. He tried not to think about the way Gabe smelled and how fucking gorgeous and disheveled he looked. He tried not to think about the fact that the last time they were this close they were kissing. He tried to remember that he was pissed.  
  
“I will not come back upstairs,” he whispered, his voice low and cutting. “I will not, because you know how I feel, and I don’t know how you feel. And that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair to have to look at you every day, to be in your apartment, to be that close to you, and not know what you want.”  
  
His voice wasn’t cutting anymore, and he wasn’t angry. He was hurt. He knew it now. He could feel how hurt he was, and he couldn’t hide it. “I don’t know what you’re doing, and I just wish I knew,” he said, his voice breaking.  
  
“Shh,” Gabe whispered. He frowned for a second, looked around, and then, suddenly, he wrapped William in his arms.  
  
William was shocked. He closed his eyes and took everything in – the feeling of Gabe’s bomber against his face, the weight of Gabe’s arms around his shoulders, how close Gabe’s mouth was to his cheek. And then, as suddenly as it had happened, Gabe let go. He held William’s shoulders and looked in his eyes.  
  
“This is not easy for me, to see you this way,” Gabe said. “It’s not easy for me to see you in class, to avoid going to Arlo, to pretend I don’t feel something for you. Your story is at the top of that stack of papers because I can’t stop reading it. I like reading your stories because I want to know more about you and because I think you’re brilliant. I wish things weren’t this way. I keep having bad dates because I think about you all the time. And I came home from a bad date and I saw you in front of my apartment and I thought this had to be some kind of sign. I thought maybe –“  
  
William didn’t want to hear anymore. He didn’t need to. He wrapped his arms around Gabe and kissed him. He knew it was desperate, but this was it. This was the magic moment. And William was not letting it slip away.  
  
Gabe hesitated and then, by some miracle, started kissing back. He gripped William’s waist hard as their lips moved together. Gabe’s lips were soft and full, and William was suddenly self-conscious about how chapped his lips were. But Gabe didn’t seem to mind. He held William’s neck and kissed William with urgency. William felt it too. So much had been building to right now, and here they were.  
  
William pulled away solely because he needed air. Gabe smiled and brushed William’s bangs away from his eyes.  
  
“That’s been a long time coming,” Gabe said, not letting go of William’s waist.  
  
“Yeah,” William answered.  
  
“We should talk about this. About what it all means.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“But tonight you should go back to your party.”  
  
William huffed. “Are you serious?”  
  
“Yes. If we’re going to do… whatever we’re going to do, I’m not going to let you give up time with your friends to make out with me. You need to do high school things. Let’s get coffee tomorrow.”  
  
William smirked. “Like… a date?”  
  
Gabe rolled his eyes and laughed. “Like coffee. Here, I’ll give you my number and you can text me your address. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go somewhere in the city.”  
  
William handed his phone to Gabe, who programmed his number in. “I swear to god, if you give this to anyone…”  
  
“I won’t, I promise.”  
  
Gabe smiled and kissed William’s cheek. “Go get drunk,” he said. “Thanks for getting pizza tonight.”  
  
William beamed. “Goodnight, Gabe.”  
  
“’Night, Will.”  
  
William practically skipped the block back to Ryan’s house. He floated through the front door and grabbed another beer from the kitchen, where he found Brendon talking to Sarah.  
  
“Where have you been?” Brendon asked, slurring a little. “And why do you look so dopey?”  
  
“Someone got laid,” Sarah teased.  
  
“Nah,” William laughed.  
  
“Well, what’s up?” Brendon pressed. “You’re looking very chipper.”  
  
William could have told Brendon. He could have asked for Sarah to give them a minute and told Brendon the news. But for now, he wanted to hold onto what happened and keep it just for himself.  
  
“Nothing really,” William said. “Just a great party.”


	8. November: Brendon

Brendon forced himself to take a deep breath before answering the door. He missed the beginning of the year, before that whole mix-up at Ryan’s party, when being around Ryan was fun and easy. Now Ryan made Brendon nervous and jumpy. He didn’t know how to control it. It wasn’t nearly as fun being friends with someone when you were constantly making sure you weren’t looking at them too long or thinking about them too much.  
  
“Hey, Bren,” Ryan said, breezing into Brendon’s house as soon as Brendon opened the door. He threw his backpack on the floor and strode into the kitchen, on the hunt for a snack.  
  
Brendon watched Ryan, so comfortable in Brendon’s house, and marveled for the billionth time at how insane his life was becoming. He had spent the last month straddling two very different realities. The first was the one that made sense. He and Ryan were friends and project partners, constantly at each other’s houses to write music and fuck off, gossiping about their friends and sharing new bands that they’d learned about. Brendon had been seeing Sarah for a few weeks and they were getting more serious. Brendon still saw Patrick and Bill at least once during the weekend, although that was predictably getting harder and harder since all of them were dating. They all still went to Arlo as much as they could, and they all went to Ryan’s any time he threw a party (which was often). Brendon’s parents were on his ass constantly about college applications. It was the senior year that Brendon wanted, the one he expected.  
  
But then there was the second reality, the one Brendon danced around but took up an increasingly huge amount of his time. Brendon could not stop thinking about Ryan. He was constantly coming up with things to talk to Ryan about. Last week, he’d added UNLV to the list of colleges he was applying to. He would play that first party over and over again in his head any time he had the chance. He still remembered the way he felt that night, like he and Ryan were doing something new but not wrong. They had both been both drunk. They had just been messing around. Which was why it was so frustrating that whenever he was with Sarah, or even (especially) when he was hooking up with her, he would daydream about Ryan. And Ryan had never even brought up that party, hadn’t even mentioned it the next day as a joke. Which annoyed Brendon for some reason he couldn’t quite figure out.  
  
And for all the space and time Ryan took up in Brendon’s life and thoughts, Brendon had talked to exactly zero people about it. He didn’t want to talk to Ryan about it. For all the tension Brendon felt, he still loved hanging out with Ryan and didn’t want to change their dynamic. And he didn’t want to bring it up to William and Patrick. He knew what they’d say – that maybe Brendon wasn’t straight. And Brendon would deny that, say he was _definitely_ straight, this was just a new type of friendship, and William and Patrick would nod and say okay. But it would be too late then. Then Brendon would have to confront the glaring, obvious fact that this had never happened to him before with anyone.  
  
But that didn’t stop him from hoping against hope that he could find some way to get close to Ryan again.  
  
“Do you want anything?” Ryan asked, his head in the fridge.  
  
“Are you trying to get me food in my own house? I’m supposed to be the host,” Brendon replied, padding into the kitchen.  
  
“Well you were very rude and did not have anything laid out for me. No cheese plate, no cocktail. I am very disappointed,” Ryan said sarcastically. He smiled, and Brendon smiled back. Even though Brendon felt manic whenever Ryan was around, it was also so peaceful to be around him.  
  
“Well, I’ll just settle for a Sprite,” Ryan continued. “Should we go to your room? I have some lyrics I want to show you. Hopefully they work for the project.”  
  
Brendon nodded even as his mouth went dry. It always sent a chill down Brendon’s spine when Ryan was in his room. It always felt so intimate, sitting on his bed with Ryan while the door was closed, listening to him sing a combination of words he and Brendon wrote. He had been trying to go to Ryan’s house more, but Ryan had been fighting with his dad a lot, and Brendon knew that he didn’t want to be in his own house right now.  
  
They shuffled up the stairs in silence as Ryan gulped his Sprite. When they got to Brendon’s bedroom, they fell into their usual routine. Ryan collapsed onto the bed, pulled his beat up notebook out of his backpack, and started tweaking the lyrics he wanted to share with Brendon while Brendon tuned his guitar on the floor.  
  
“Can you believe our first song is due in, like, two weeks?” Ryan asked. “We need to get serious about finishing one.”  
  
“We probably spend too much time bullshitting,” Brendon replied.  
  
“There’s no one I’d rather bullshit with,” Ryan said, winking. “Speaking of which, any gossip from the weekend?”  
  
“Not really,” Brendon replied. “Pete and Patrick are still doing whatever they’re doing, and…” Brendon hesitated. He knew all about Bill and Mr. Saporta, but that wasn’t his story to tell, even to Ryan.  
  
“And? Does this have anything to do with Bill dating a certain teacher?”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“Oh come on. I was there the night they met, they were all over each other. And Bill is… _incredibly_ loose lipped about how into Mr. Saporta he is.”  
  
“Well, you’d have to ask Bill. You know, that’s not my place to say.”  
  
“You’re such a good friend, Bren. So loyal.” Ryan leaned down and pinched Brendon’s cheek. Brendon felt himself blush. “I mean, Bill could get whoever he wants. He’s so hot in that broody writer way.”  
  
Brendon’s chest tightened at the sound of Ryan calling Bill hot. He figured he would just ignore the comment and move on. “Are you still having your party Friday?” he asked. “The best gossip always comes from your parties.”  
  
“Obviously I’m having my party. Friday night is the first night of Thanksgiving break. It’s gonna be a blowout.”  
  
“Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?”  
  
“Uh, I don’t know,” Ryan replied, not looking at Brendon. “My dad’s going out of town Thursday for work, and I don’t know when he’ll be back, so.”  
  
Brendon started at Ryan. This was happening more and more – Ryan’s dad would take off for long periods of time on “work trips” and Ryan wouldn’t talk about where he was going. It allowed Ryan to cement himself as the party king of the class in just a few months, but Brendon could tell it also made Ryan unbelievably sad.  
  
“Well, look,” Brendon said before he could stop himself. “My family always does Thanksgiving together, a bunch of my parents’ work friends come by and cousins come out from Vegas. It’s a big thing. You should come. My parents love you, they would have no problem with you being there.”  
  
The way that Ryan’s face lit up made Brendon’s heart swell. “I would love that,” Ryan said, his voice soft. “Thank you. You really are a good friend.”  
  
Brendon smiled. His chest felt warm. “No problem, Ryan.”  
  
“SO!” Ryan exclaimed, his demeanor changing almost immediately. The speed with which Ryan could go from serious and withdrawn to his regular chatty self always gave Brendon whiplash. “As it happens, I need the advice of a good friend.”  
  
“Shoot.”  
  
“How do you feel about that Audrey girl?”  
  
“How do I… feel about her?”  
  
“Yeah, like is she cool? I think she has a thing for me.”  
  
“She’s had a thing for everyone,” Brendon said flippantly before realizing the direction the conversation was going. “Wait, do you have a thing for her?”  
  
Ryan shrugged, but he was grinning. “I could be persuaded. She seems like a fun time. And she’s close to Sarah, so we could go on double dates and stuff.”  
  
Brendon’s brain felt like it was going to burst out of his skull. _Audrey_? Audrey was dramatic and constantly annoyed at everything. She wasn’t the right fit for Ryan. She wouldn’t be good for him. And the idea of going on double dates with Ryan and Audrey… sitting next to Sarah and watching Ryan date someone else… it would not work.  
  
“There aren’t any guys you want to date?”  
  
“Any of the guys I want to date aren’t interested or are dating other people,” Ryan said matter-of-factly. “Besides, I’m just going where the wind takes me. And the wind is definitely blowing in Audrey’s direction.”  
  
Brendon could not, would not talk about this with Ryan. Was Ryan implying that he wanted to date Bill? Brendon couldn’t decide which situation would be worse. He was getting a headache just imagining Ryan next to Audrey. Or Bill. Or anyone at school. Didn’t Ryan realize that him dating anyone would fuck up his friendship with Brendon? Didn’t he care?  
  
Brendon needed to change the subject. Fast. “We really should get started. Do you have new lyrics? Or are we going to work on old stuff? I have notes from last week.” Brendon got up and pulled a stack of papers off of his desk. “We can do that one that played on ‘My Favorite Things,’ I bet that could be good if we fleshed it out.”  
  
“That was kind of a joke song,” Ryan replied. “What else do you have over there?”  
  
“Uh, there was this line you wrote last week: ‘We’re just a wet dream for the webzines, make us it make us hip make us scene.’ That’s also a good jumping off point I think.”  
  
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “That’s good. But I kind of wanted to share these with you.”  
  
“If we’re going to write a full song, we can’t just swap lines all afternoon. We should build on something we’ve already written.”  
  
“I wrote a good chunk of this song. I want to share it with you,” Ryan insisted. There was something in his eyes and his voice that made Brendon nod. Not that it was that hard. Brendon thought Ryan was an amazing writer. He loved being trusted with everything Ryan wrote.  
  
Brendon sat on the bed next to Ryan, setting the stack of half-written songs next to him. Ryan sat up and faced Brendon, his face serious. They sat cross-legged facing each other, and Ryan pushed himself toward Brendon until their knees were touching. Brendon’s heart beat fast. He tried not to move or breathe too hard so he wouldn’t lose the contact.  
  
“Okay,” Ryan said “This is rough, but I’m just going to read it and you can tell me what you think.” He took a breath and began reading:  
  
“ _She held the world upon a string_ _  
But she didn't ever hold me  
Spun the stars on her fingernails  
But it never made her happy  
Cause she couldn't ever have me  
She said she won the world at a carnival  
But she could never win me  
Cause she couldn't ever catch me_.  
  
And that’s it right now.”  
  
Brendon swallowed. His body felt electrified, but his mouth felt dry. There was something in the air between them, similar to the night of that first party. _New but not wrong_.  
  
“I really like it,” Brendon said. “It’s beautiful.” He swallowed. “I think I have something we can add to it.” He shuffled through the stack of papers and finally found what he was looking for: a piece of notebook paper with a few lines scratched on it, something he had written quickly one night weeks ago when he couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan. He had been afraid to show it to Ryan, but he somehow knew that this was the right time.  
  
He read off of the paper:  
“ _I don't love you I'm just passing the time_ _  
You could love me if I knew how to lie  
But who could love me?  
I am out of my mind  
Throwing a line out to sea  
To see if I can catch a dream_.”  
  
He looked up at Ryan, who was staring at him, eyes wide. “That’s really amazing,” Ryan said. “I love it. I really love it.”  
  
Brendon smiled at Ryan. Whatever was happening between them was wrapped around him like a blanket. He felt comfortable, warm, at peace. “Let’s do this song,” he said, feeling bold. “This is a good song.”  
  
“It is,” Ryan replied, smiling.  
  
“We’ll have to tweak some things, since my lines and your lines are from different perspectives.”  
  
Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Maybe not.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Maybe it can be a duet. That would definitely get us some extra points.”  
  
“A duet? Like… us singing to each other?”  
  
“Sure,” Ryan said, in planning mode. He climbed off the bed to grab the guitar, and the energy between them changed. Suddenly they were just two friends writing a song for class again.  
  
“Here,” Ryan continued, taking the sheet of paper from Brendon. “If it makes it easier, you can sing what I wrote and I can sing what you wrote. That way we’re not attached to our own words. More ideas can flow that way.”  
  
Ryan started playing random chords, trying to find the right way to start the song. Brendon watched him as he worked. He knew he was staring, but he didn’t care. There was no one here but them.  
  
Finally, Ryan cleared his throat. “Okay, play it like this.” He went through the cords a few times, and then handed the guitar to Brendon.  
  
Brendon was not a singer. He had never thought of himself that way. When this project was assigned, Brendon fully expected to play guitar and do some of the musical arrangements and keep his mouth shut. But with Ryan, signing was easy. He didn’t think he was the best singer ever, but it was easy to let his guard down a little. And as he played his guitar and sang the words that Ryan wrote, he felt like he was actually good. Like he could sing and play as well as anyone else. And when he finished and saw the way Ryan was looking at him, he felt desirable in a way he hadn’t before, like his voice and his looks and his wants and needs and thoughts were all good enough for someone. When Ryan smiled at him, he smiled back.  
  
They knew the lyrics and music were really good. They knew, without saying it, that this was the song they were going to turn in. They worked on the song for hours, playing chords and writing new lines and singing back and forth to each other. It was hard work, and they were focused on getting it perfect. But that didn’t stop Ryan from sneaking glances at Brendon, and it didn’t stop Brendon from noticing. After a while, Brendon started sneaking glances of his own.


	9. November: William

Sixth period always went by too fast and took too long. Ever since William had kissed Gabe last month, Creative Writing was full of tension that made William feel strange, like he was on top of the world and he was also going to throw up. He sat in his usual seat toward the back of class and watched Gabe lecture about various authors and their contributions to fiction. He watched girls lean toward Gabe, hanging on his every word. When Gabe asked a question, William never raised his hand and Gabe never called on him. But when William caught Gabe’s eye, Gabe would smile a little smile, and William knew it was just for him. He was confident that no one knew about them, but at the same time he didn’t know how no one could figure it out. Everything he did in class, every slight shift in his seat, made him feel conspicuous.   
  
Gabe had been lecturing about the difference between F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway, but William was only barely paying attention. This weekend marked a month since they kissed in front of Gabe’s apartment. The next morning, Gabe had driven them into Chicago to a quiet café. They had decided almost immediately that they wanted to try to be together, but Gabe had been adamant that there be rules. Chief among them: tell no one except the people who already knew because they had been at Arlo the night Gabe and William had met. William had no problem with that. He loved the idea of a secret romance. They had also agreed not to do anything suspicious at the school, to only hang out at Gabe’s apartment and places in Chicago that were off the beaten path, to only see each other on weekends, and to not spend the night together, at least right now. Gabe also made William promise that he wouldn’t skip parties or blow his friends off for Gabe and that his grades wouldn’t slip, especially in Creative Writing. They’d spent the rest of the morning drinking coffee and snuggling in the booth at the café, and later they’d gone back to Gabe’s apartment to watch movies and make out. It was one of the best days of William’s life. Since then, they’d spent time together every weekend, hooking up and watching movies and eating takeout. He figured this weekend was kind of like an anniversary, although he didn’t know how Gabe felt about it.  
  
The class finally ended. “Remember to leave your writing assignments for the week on my desk, and have a good Thanksgiving break,” Gabe said as the bell rang. “And Will, can you stay for a second after class?”  
  
William ignored the “oooooohs” and “someone’s in trouble”s that his classmates murmured in his direction. He tried to make himself busy as everyone shuffled out of the classroom, his heart pounding in his ears. He watched the group of girls that sat right in front of Gabe bat their eyes at him and say “Have a _great_ Thanksgiving, Mr. Saporta!” as they moved out of the room. Finally, everyone had left and Gabe closed the door behind them. William walked up to the desk and put his story on top of the stack on the desk.  
  
“Everything okay?” William asked. “This is… uh… I thought there was a rule.”  
  
“I’m making an exception,” Gabe said, smiling slyly. “You should maybe stop staring at me with hearts in your eyes all period. It’s very noticeable.”  
  
“Oh shit,” William said, laughing. “Sorry, I’ll try to be less obvious.”  
  
“And, um, what are your plans tonight? Are you doing anything with your friends or going to a party or anything?”  
  
William did have plans for tonight. He was going to Ryan’s party, which was supposed to be epic since it was the first night of Thanksgiving break. But if it was between going to a party or hanging out with Gabe, he would rather hang out with Gabe. He knew that one of the rules was to never blow off his friends for a date. But talking like this in Gabe’s classroom was a clear violation of the rules. If Gabe could break them, so could William.  
  
“Nope,” William lied. “No plans.”  
  
“Let’s go to dinner,” Gabe suggested. “There’s a good Mexican place in Chicago. We can have a nice dinner and find somewhere to get dessert.”  
  
William smiled and nodded. “Sounds like a date.”  
  
“I can pick you up at 7. Have a good last period.”  
  
“Okay.”   
  
“And Will?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
Gabe got close to William. William’s heart raced. If someone walked in right now, there would be a lot of explaining to do. William looked up at Gabe.   
  
“You look good today,” Gabe whispered, smiling that perfect smile. He ran his fingers against William’s and said, “Have a good afternoon.”  
  
William floated out of the room and into his last period.   
  
Patrick and Brendon pouted when William told them that he was going to hang out with Gabe instead of the party, but they didn’t give him much grief. William knew they wouldn’t. They were both spending ridiculous amounts of time with their significant others that they had no room to talk. William felt bad for exactly five seconds. He knew that this wasn’t the way he’d wanted to spend this year, all of them separated by different romantic pursuits, but that was just growing up. William was so into Gabe that it was hard to care about anything else.  
  
At home, he quickly said hello to his parents and let them know he was going out tonight. His mom reminded him that he needed to work on his college applications over the weekend, and William said that he would. He went into his room and opened the draft of his personal statement, but as usual he had a hard time writing it. He was too busy thinking about other things. Instead, he listened to music for a while and got ready for his date. He threw on black ripped jeans and a black polo. Black was good, right? Very adult. Finally, he got a text at seven telling him to come outside. William ran down the stairs, told his parents goodnight, grabbed his coat, and ran out the door.   
  
He walked the half block to Gabe’s car – Gabe never parked in front of William’s house, for obvious reasons – and climbed into the passenger seat. Gabe was wearing a white tee-shirt and the tightest jeans imaginable. William salivated at the contrast between Gabe’s skin and the white of the shirt. He thought about asking Gabe to cancel dinner and just take him back to his apartment.  
  
“Hey, Will,” Gabe said, smiling. “Long time no see.”  
  
“If only those girls in class could see us right now,” William replied.   
  
Gabe laughed and kissed William deeply. “I missed you. I missed seeing you like this. I know I shouldn’t have done that shit after class today, but… god.”  
  
“I missed you too,” William said. “I’m excited to be able to see you more this week.”  
  
“Same here,” Gabe replied, starting the car.   
  
On the way, they chatted about their plans for Thanksgiving and the fact that Pete’s band was taking off so quickly. But after about fifteen minutes, William noticed that they were on Ryan’s street.  
  
“What direction are you going?” William asked, suddenly nervous.  
  
“I’m just gonna take this road into the city. It’s the fastest way to get to the restaurant. Why?”  
  
“No reason,” William replied.  
  
Gabe kept talking about Pete’s plans for his band, but William just nodded, looking out the window, hoping to god Ryan’s party hadn’t started yet. After about five minutes, Ryan’s house came into view. The music was audible from the street, and groups of people were hanging out and drinking in the front yard. There were cars everywhere. William felt his stomach give out.  
  
“Isn’t that Ryan’s?” Gabe asked. William just nodded.  
  
“Were you not invited to Ryan’s party?”  
  
“I was,” William said, trying to shrug it off.   
  
Gabe glanced at William, his expression intense. “Oh,” he said. He turned the radio on and didn’t say anything else.  
  
The rest of the ride to the restaurant couldn’t have been more than 15 minutes, but it felt agonizingly long. William was caught between feeling indignant and embarrassed. He felt bad about lying to Gabe and breaking one of the rules, but Gabe had broken them too! And why would Gabe be mad about William _wanting_ to see him?  
  
Gabe was still quiet when they got to the restaurant and sat down. He had gotten a leather jacket from the back of his car and put it on, and William wanted so badly to tell Gabe how good he looked, but it felt wrong. Gabe ordered a horchata and William ordered a coke, and then Gabe buried his face in his menu for a few minutes. William couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“Are we gonna sit in weird silence all night?” William asked. “Because if we are, you can just take me home.”  
  
“You _knew_ ,” Gabe whispered. “You knew you weren’t supposed to blow your friends off for me.”  
  
“I’m sorry!” William said. “You broke a rule, too. I thought we could be lax about the rules.”  
  
“I do not want you to remove yourself from your life just to hang out with me,” Gabe said. “I told you that.”  
  
“Brendon and Patrick and Ryan and all those people couldn’t give a single shit if I was there,” William said. “They barely even notice I’m gone. I’ve been to every other party. I just wanted to see you.”  
  
“When you look back on your senior year of high school five or ten years from now, I want you to be able to remember your parties and your friends and not a boyfriend that you had. You’re in high school, you should be doing high school things.”  
  
“What is it with you constantly reminding me that I’m in high school? I know I am, I’m there five days a week.”  
  
“Because,” Gabe said firmly. “You think you’re an adult, but you aren’t. You think you’re too old or mature or cool for high school parties or high school friends, you want to hang out with your 25-year-old boyfriend instead. That’s not reality. You should not be giving up your actual life to try to make a life with me.”  
  
William was stunned into silence. He didn’t know what point Gabe was trying to make. He felt like he was being broken up with, even though Gabe wasn’t trying to make any moves to leave. Had he done something wrong? 45 minutes ago they were kissing in Gabe’s car.  
  
“Should we… go home?” William finally asked.  
  
Gabe sighed. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.”  
  
“Do you think I’m dating you just to play house at your apartment on the weekends? It’s not like that.”  
  
“Then what is it like?” Gabe asked seriously.   
  
The waiter interrupted them to take their orders. William ordered enchiladas even though he had totally lost his appetite.  
  
“I know that it’s alluring, dating someone older,” Gabe continued. “I know it’s fun to go on dates that someone your age couldn’t afford and to hook up without worrying about parents walking in and to go to the fridge and grab a beer without anyone caring. But this is way too risky to just be doing it for the allure.”  
  
“I’m not doing it for the allure,” William insisted.  
  
“Will. The first time you came over was because the party you were supposed to be at was ‘boring,’ and now you’re blowing those same parties off to be with me. We could have done this any other day.”  
  
“It’s just the one party. And maybe I shouldn’t have blown it off. But I just really wanted to see you. I couldn’t wait. You’re acting like I’m taking advantage of this situation, like it’s not risky for me too.”  
  
Gabe was quiet. William reached for his hand, and Gabe let him take it.  
  
“I like you a lot. I messed up with the rules, just like you did. But I don’t want you to constantly be looking over your shoulder thinking I’m just fucking around.”  
  
“Can I be honest?” Gabe asked. William nodded. “That night we met at Arlo, I was just looking to fuck around.”  
  
William laughed. He laughed so hard that Gabe eventually joined in. “Me too,” William finally replied. “But I was really into you, even then.”  
  
“Same here.”  
  
They smiled at each other. The food came quickly, and they ate mostly in silence. After they ate, they commented on how they liked the food before Gabe paid the check. William loved how quickly they had settled back into comfort with each other. He could look at Gabe all night and not have to say anything.   
  
“It’s nine,” Gabe said as they left the restaurant. “We could get dessert, or we could… go back to my place?”  
  
“That,” William said.   
  
Gabe smiled and put his arms around William’s shoulders. He kissed William right there in the street, under the streetlight, where anyone could see them. William gripped Gabe’s waist and returned the kiss, feeling the warmth coming from Gabe’s body. When Gabe pulled away, they still held each other, looking at each other for a long time.  
  
“Will Beckett, you are gonna be the death of me,” Gabe whispered.   
  
“Hmm, kind of cliché,” William responded. Gabe smirked.  
  
“See? That’s exactly what I mean.”  
  
They rushed back to Gabe’s car, and he practically sped the whole drive back to the apartment. William could feel himself getting hard in the passenger seat just thinking about being with Gabe. The night had started off so strange. It was going to feel so good to end it together.  
  
They ran from the car to the apartment, partially to get away from the cold, and partially because they wanted to get their hands on each other. Gabe proved that this was his motivation the second he closed the door to his apartment, when he pushed William against the wall and kissed him, gripping his sides as he pushed his mouth hard against William’s. William held Gabe’s face in his hands as their tongues moved together. Gabe moaned into the kiss, and a chill went down William’s spine. It was still amazing to William that he could get Gabe to respond that way to him. Gabe pulled away to push William’s coat off of his shoulders. William pulled Gabe back to him by his belt loops. The clothes could come off later. Right now he just wanted more of this.   
  
Gabe kissed William’s mouth, then his cheek, then his neck. His hand slid under William’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against William’s skin. “About earlier.”  
  
“What? I’ve totally forgotten about that.” William breathed. “I’m just thinking about this.”  
  
Gabe smirked as he pulled away from William. “Me too,” he said. He took William’s hand and led him to the edge of the bed. William sat down and wrestled his shoes off. Gabe pulled his jacket off and straddled William. He took William’s face in his hands. “Is this okay?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah,” William breathed. Gabe asked every time, and every time it was so hot.  
  
Gabe pushed William so that he was laying down and pulled his shirt off. William reached up instinctively to touch Gabe’s torso. Gabe was toned and tan, and his jeans rode low on his hips. To have someone that looked like this on top of him was the stuff of William’s dreams. William tugged his own shirt off. He wanted contact.   
  
“You’re gorgeous,” Gabe said, smiling down at William. “So fucking beautiful.”  
  
He leaned down and kissed William again. William bit Gabe’s lip and Gabe moaned. William bucked his hips against Gabe’s, almost on accident. Gabe pulled away and grinned at William, his eyes dark. He moved one of his hands to William’s hip. “Keep doing that,” he said, his voice husky.  
  
William smiled and brought Gabe’s face back to his own. He kissed Gabe hard as he rolled his hips into Gabe’s. Gabe grunted and pressed his hips against William’s. William could feel that both of them were hard. He rolled his hips again, whimpering into the kiss this time, desperate for friction. Gabe pressed his whole body closer to William’s, and the contact drove William crazy. He bit Gabe’s lip again, his fingers dragging lightly along Gabe’s spine. Gabe moved away from William’s mouth to kiss his jaw and reached for the button on William’s jeans. “Can I?” he whispered. William just nodded.   
  
Gabe undid William’s jeans and pulled them down just enough that he could grip William’s erection. At just that touch, Ryan groaned a little too loud and arched his back, wanting more. Gabe chuckled. “Baby,” he whispered, laying next to William and pressing his face into the crook of his neck, “you’re so impatient.”  
  
“You know me so well,” William responded, turning to kiss Gabe, their tongues colliding clumsily while Gabe started to work William. William whimpered against Gabe’s mouth. “Fuck, that’s so good.”  
  
Gabe responded by kissing William deeper as he started to work him faster. Between the heat of Gabe’s mouth and the pressure on his dick, William felt overwhelmed almost immediately. He dug his fingers into Gabe’s shoulder as he tried to slow his breathing and hold onto this feeling for just a little while longer. Gabe climbed on top of William and continued to jack him off. William held onto Gabe’s waist and looked up at him, his chest glistening with the beginnings of sweat, his brow furrowed, his lips slightly swollen. And, god, it felt so good to be underneath him, to be touched by him. Gabe knew exactly what to do, working in fast strokes, breathing heavy, biting his lip looking down at William. William tried to hold it off, but he came quickly, moaning Gabe’s name and gripping the comforter under him. Gabe leaned down to kiss him gently, but all William wanted to do was return the favor. He pawed at Gabe’s jeans.  
  
“Damn, okay,” Gabe whispered, his voice low. “You’re not wasting any time.” He laid back down to push his own jeans off, and William immediately reached for him, not caring that there was still cum on his stomach or that he probably looked as eager as he felt. He kissed Gabe anywhere he could reach – his chest, his jaw, his throat – as he jacked Gabe off, desperate to feel as close to Gabe as possible, to stay close to him. It took Gabe no time at all to come, groaning biting his lip and bucking into William’s hand.  
  
Then he smiled at William, looking totally dopey. “I guess we should find a towel or something,” he said, but he didn’t move to get one.  
  
“Do you want me to get one?” William asked.  
  
Gabe laughed. “No, just give me a second. I need to recover.” He sighed. “Being with you feels so… good. Just so right.”  
  
“Yeah,” William agreed, his heart swelling. It was fun to date Gabe, to have an older, cocky, objectively sexy boyfriend that would take him into the city and buy him dinner. And of course the secret romance angle made their relationship even hotter. But these moments, the quiet moments when Gabe looked at him with admiration and awe and told him how much he liked him, were the ones that made it worth it to William.  
  
Gabe kissed William’s forehead and sat up to get a towel off of the floor. He cleaned himself off and handed the towel to William. When William cleaned himself off, Gabe threw his arm around William’s shoulders and pulled himself close.   
  
“Thanks for not being too pissed about earlier,” Gabe said. “I guess that was like our first fight.”  
  
“It’s really fine,” William replied. “I get that you’re worried about me giving up time with my friends for you, but I do happen to know what I’m doing.”  
  
“I just don’t like the idea of you giving up something as permanent as your friendships for something that might not be as permanent,” Gabe explained. “Which I know is an ominous thing to say, but this is such a weird situation we’re in. And I know Patrick and Brendon know. I don’t like the idea of you being conspicuously absent from a party and having someone else make excuses for you. I don’t know what they will or won’t say.”  
  
“You’re smart,” William said, “so I know you don’t need me to tell you this. But just in case I’m wrong: it is not gonna work out between us if you’re constantly freaking out over every little thing. It’s not fun to be on a date with someone making up scenarios that end in us getting in trouble.”  
  
Gabe grinned at William. “I can’t believe you’re in high school. You’re so smart and so brash. You should probably not talk to me like that in class.”  
  
“Please,” William responded. “I’m terrified of talking to you in class. I don’t want everyone to think I have a massive crush on you, and I don’t want you to realize I’m all talk.”  
  
“There’s no fucking way you’re all talk, Will. No way on earth.”  
  
William laughed and snuggled closer to Gabe. He didn’t know what time it was, but he was sure Gabe would have to take him home soon. Right now, that didn’t matter. This, being this close to the best person that William knew, felt like the only thing in the world.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh, this was a long chapter. Sorry! Hopefully I won't be so wordy moving forward (no promises though)


	10. November: Patrick

“This is so. BORING!” Bill complained, flopping onto Brendon’s bed next to Patrick.  
  
“It’s not our fault you decided to go on a date instead of getting drunk,” Patrick replied, squeezing his eyes closed. “We’re hung over, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”  
  
“I want to do something! There are sales at the mall, why can’t we go there?”   
  
“Too bright,” Brendon said weakly from the floor. “We just need to hide in my room with the lights off and stay away from my parents, who will definitely figure out that we have hangovers if they spend one single second with us.”  
  
“How was your date?” Patrick asked. He knew asking about Gabe would distract Bill enough that Patrick could have a few more minutes laying down with his eyes closed.  
  
“Weird,” Bill responded. “We kind of fought when we got to the restaurant. He was mad that I cancelled on you to go to dinner with him. It’s like he doesn’t want me to get attached.”  
  
“At least he’s your boyfriend,” Patrick replied. He didn’t mean to be bitter, but he was pretty bitter. According to Bill, he and Gabe had been coupled up ever since Ryan’s first big party in October, and they were exclusive and going on dates and having a perfectly normal time, Gabe’s job notwithstanding. There was nothing, _nothing_ holding Pete back from being that dedicated to Patrick, and yet Pete would not commit.  
  
“Sorry dude,” Bill said. “But you and Pete seem to be doing fine.”  
  
“Yeah,” Brendon added. “Everything is exactly the same except that he’s not exclusively dating you.”  
  
Patrick huffed. Brendon and Bill weren’t wrong. He and Pete weren’t an official couple, but that didn’t stop them from acting like one. The last time they even talked about their relationship status was a month ago when Patrick caught Pete flirting with a random guy. Since then, they’d just carried on as they always had, spending most of Patrick’s free time together, hooking up, going to shows. Hell, Pete was with him all night at Ryan’s party last night, and there was a “good morning” text waiting on Patrick’s phone. But something was off, at least for Patrick. Whenever they weren’t together, Patrick worried that Pete was hooking up with someone else. He felt anxious any time Pete had a show that Patrick couldn’t go to. Even when they were together, Patrick felt weird when Pete checked his phone. Patrick knew Pete liked him. He just wished that Pete didn’t like anyone else.  
  
“I just don’t know why it’s so hard for him to commit,” Patrick groaned.  
  
“Is this how adult relationships work?” Bill asked. “Like, don’t they date someone for a long time and then decide to be exclusive?”  
  
Patrick turned his head to glare at Bill. “That’s not what your adult boyfriend did.”  
  
Even in the dark, Patrick could see Bill smile that dopey smile he wore whenever he talked about Gabe. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. Patrick rolled his eyes.  
  
“What’s even the problem?” Brendon asked, sitting up slowly and leaning against the wall. “If he isn’t exclusive, then you aren’t exclusive. You can date other people, too. It works great for me and Sarah.”  
  
Patrick shared a look with Bill. Patrick knew what they wanted to ask, but he wasn’t going to be the one to do it, especially in this state.  
  
Thankfully, Bill, who really did have the least amount of shame among the three of them, spoke up. “Are you… seeing anyone else? Or do you want to date anyone?”  
  
“No,” Brendon replied too quickly. Patrick and Bill shared another look. There was definitely something going on with Brendon and Ryan. Patrick didn’t know what it was, but there was some kind of tension there. Last night, they had been all over each other, getting drunk and whispering to each other and hanging on each other whenever they went anywhere together, which was often. Sarah and Audrey had followed them around all night, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that Ryan and Brendon didn’t care about them. Brendon had never had a friend like that, boy or girl. Bill was convinced they were sleeping together, but Patrick wasn’t so sure.   
  
“Listen, it’s great that you guys are having the time of your lives, but my relationship doesn’t look like how I want it to look. I don’t want to date other people and I don’t care that Pete is older. I want Pete to be my boyfriend.”  
  
“Okay,” Bill said. “So you know what you have to do.”  
  
“What? No,” Patrick responded. He had no clue what to do.  
  
“Duh,” Brendon said. “You have to _tell him_ you want him to be your boyfriend.”  
  
“Yeah,” Bill added. “The only time you ever talked about being exclusive, you didn’t tell him what YOU wanted. You’ve been complaining about it to us for a month, but not to him. If you don’t tell him, he won’t know.”  
  
“But I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Patrick replied. “He’s older and more experienced than me.”  
  
“So what?” Bill asked. “It doesn’t matter who’s older or younger or who’s dated more people. You’re half of the relationship. What you say counts.”  
  
“Yeah, if he really likes you he’ll listen to you. And if he doesn’t listen to you then that tells you all you need to know,” Brendon said.  
  
Patrick sat up and smiled. What would he do without his friends? He felt so much better whenever he talked to them. Patrick always felt so behind Bill and Brendon – he came out after Bill, had his first drink after Brendon, and had only been going to concerts for a year. And of course, they were both so much more experienced than he was when it came to dating. Patrick was really happy that they tried to help him instead of making fun of him. “Thanks, guys,” he said.  
  
“No problem, dude. Just be direct. Older guys like that,” Bill replied.  
  
“You’re really milking the dating-your-teacher thing,” Brendon said.  
  
“Hey, if you start dating a super hot teacher, you can also milk it. Now can we please do something? I didn’t come over here this morning so that I could sit around in the dark and mope with two people who can’t handle their shit.”  
  
Brendon groaned. “I _guess_ we can get breakfast and take it from there.”  
  
The three of them piled into Patrick’s car and drove to their favorite diner. They all ordered coffee and greasy food that they took far too long eating. They were too busy talking about college applications and schoolwork and their predictions for prom queen and king. Then they were too busy talking about what college would be like, and the next five years, and the next ten years. Patrick sat in the booth across from his two best friends, laughing every time Bill said something dramatic, stealing fries off of Brendon’s plate. He stared at these two people, the people who had gotten him through so much, through his whole life, and wondered how he was going to live without them. How was it possible to go off to college and have a life without mornings like this? How was it possible to share the pieces of his soul that he shared with Brendon and Bill with anyone else? Growing up was so hard, and it was so fast, and it was happening whether Patrick wanted it to or not.  
  
“Guys,” Patrick said suddenly. “Please tell me that when we’re all successful or old or married or whatever, we’ll still do this. We’ll still be friends.”  
  
Bill frowned at Patrick. “Of course we’ll be friends. We’ll always be friends.”  
  
“Yeah dude,” Brendon said, smiling. “You’re never getting rid of me. Neither of you.”  
  
Patrick smiled back. He settled deeper into his booth. Things would change. It was stupid to think they wouldn’t. He looked at his friends and tried to remember everything about this moment so he could keep it in his heart.  
  
After three hours and a lot of annoyed stares from the waitress, they finally left. They went back to Brendon’s house to hang out and watch TV for the afternoon. Patrick tried not to think about how much homework he had over Thanksgiving break. It didn’t seem important right now.   
  
Around 5, Patrick stood up. “I have to head out, I have plans with Pete.”  
  
“Oh yeah, Ryan’s coming over,” Brendon replied. Patrick and Bill stared at him. “We need to finish our project for Music Theory!”  
  
Bill narrowed his eyes. “When was the last time you saw Sarah?”  
  
“Last night,” Brendon replied.  
  
“When was the last time you saw Sarah without Ryan?”  
  
“Oh, sorry officer, I didn’t realize this was an interrogation. Sarah and I aren’t serious like that. Jesus.”  
  
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Patrick said quickly. He was not going to let Bill ruin this perfect day because of some weird theory of his. “Bill, do you need a ride home?”  
  
Bill nodded. They said their goodbyes, and Patrick brought Bill home.  
  
“Thanks for the ride,” Bill said as they got to his house. “Have a good time tonight.”  
  
“Thanks,” Patrick replied. “Today was really fun. Like old times.”   
  
“Yeah,” Bill chuckled. Then he turned to Patrick, his face serious. “You know that Brendon and I meant what we said about Pete.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.”  
  
“Okay, good. Because you’re strong, Patrick. And you’re good-looking and funny and smart. And you deserve to have a guy listen to what you want. You deserve to have a boyfriend if you want one.”  
  
Patrick beamed, his chest warm. “Thanks, Bill. He’ll listen, I know it.”  
  
“Cool. Text us and let us know how it goes. See ya,” Bill responded before getting out of the car.   
  
Patrick drove to Pete’s apartment, talking himself up the whole way, remembering Bill’s words. He was strong. He was good-looking. He was funny. He was smart. He was a catch. He knew it and so did Pete. By the time he got to Pete’s, he was determined to have the conversation, even to dominate it.  
  
Pete lived in a basement apartment in a converted house. The apartment always smelled like water, the windows were tiny and barely let any natural light in, and Pete was very open about the fact that he had gotten all of his furniture off the street when other people threw it out. But somehow, Pete managed to make the place feel like a home. It was one of Patrick’s favorite places. He knocked on the door and Pete answered almost immediately, smiling broadly and wearing a hoodie without a shirt underneath. Patrick swallowed hard. When was he going to get over how hot Pete was?  
  
“Hey, Trickster,” Pete said, kissing Patrick’s cheek. “How’ve the last 15 hours been without me?”  
  
“Good,” Patrick responded, coming in the apartment and settling on the couch. “I spent the day with Bill and Brendon.”  
  
“Sounds like a good time,” Pete said, sitting next to Patrick and resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder. “Do you think Bill and Gabe would ever go on a double date with us? It seems perfect – Gabe’s my friend, Bill’s your friend.”  
  
“Uh, I don’t know. Their situation is complicated. I don’t think Gabe wants to be on a double date with another student from school.”  
  
“I guess that makes sense. Although if I was a teacher I wouldn’t be able to hide you. You’re too cute. I like you too much.”  
  
Patrick smiled. “Thanks for the thought,” he said. He loved watching Pete play shows, and he loved being on Pete’s arm in public. In those moments, he loved feeling like anyone could have Pete, and Pete still chose Patrick. He loved showing everyone that he was with someone like Pete. But these moments, in Pete’s house, when Pete flirted with Patrick even though no one was around to see it, were his favorite. These moments made Patrick feel like maybe he was a little bit in love with Pete, like if the universe just worked in their favor they could be together forever.  
  
“So, what’s the plan, Pattycakes? I am totally free tonight. No band practice, no shows, no parties. We should do something.”  
  
Patrick hesitated. He really did want to talk to Pete about being exclusive, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to do that in the mall or at an arcade (Pete’s top two date choices). “I don’t know, Pete. I thought we could stay home. I kind of wanted to talk to you tonight.”  
  
“Well, no better place to talk than over dinner! Come on, dinner and a movie? We can be a totally boring couple having a boring Saturday night experience. My treat.”  
  
Patrick’s heart swelled at the mention of being a couple, of being normal. “Yeah, okay,” he said.  
  
“Great,” Pete responded, jumping up and going to his bedroom. “Let me put a shirt on.”  
  
Pete emerged from his room a minute later, wearing a black tee shirt under his hoodie. It was insane to Patrick that everything Pete wore looked like it was painted onto his body. Everything showed how built he was. Patrick looked down at his tee shirt and jeans combo, thinking for the billionth time about the baby fat he hadn’t outgrown and the hair he was already starting to lose. It felt so weird to be so regular and get so much attention from someone like Pete.  
  
“You look great,” Pete said out of nowhere, as if he knew what Patrick was thinking. “Wanna get going?” Patrick smiled and nodded.  
  
When Pete said he wanted to be boring, he must have really meant it. When he pulled into the parking lot for the Olive Garden, Patrick thought it might be a joke, but Pete’s face was very serious. Patrick just went with the flow. They were seated and the waiter took their drink order. “Also, we want two baskets of breadsticks. Do not be stingy,” Pete said after ordering his coke. Patrick laughed.  
  
“So,” Pete said after they looked at the menu for a few minutes. “I know you wanted to talk to me about something, but I kind of also have something I need to talk about. Something big.”  
  
Patrick nodded. “Okay,” he croaked. The look on Pete’s face was very serious, and Patrick was worried he was about to be broken up with.  
  
“So our guitarist has a connection with a manager,” Pete explained. “Small-time, definitely, but a manager nonetheless. And he somehow got this manager to come to our show at Arlo a few weeks ago. He didn’t say much after the show, so we didn’t really think about it. But he called us this morning, and he wants us to go on tour. A real tour, through Illinois and Missouri.”  
  
Patrick’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t sure whether he was excited or upset. A manager? And Pete hadn’t told him? “That’s so great,” he said. “When would you go?”  
  
“Well, that’s the thing,” Pete said. “We were thinking about going out in December for a few weeks before Christmas, but this guy has connections with a few clubs in Springfield and St. Louis, and they need to fill out their roster soon. Like next week.”  
  
Patrick was dumbfounded. “Next week.”  
  
“Yeah, like next Friday. So I just wanted to know, you know, what you thought about that.”  
  
Patrick felt dizzy. He was proud of Pete, and he knew how much this meant to him, but it was so sudden. There was no way Patrick was prepared for this bomb. “I think… well. What does that mean for us?”  
  
Pete took Patrick’s hand. “It’s only a few weeks. We’ll miss each other, but it’ll be over so soon. And then I’ll come right back here, to you.”  
  
Patrick smiled. He really thought it was going to go the complete opposite direction. How silly he was to think Pete would just leave him high and dry. “Okay. I mean, you should definitely do it. It’s… sudden, but I guess that’s just how it works sometimes. You’ve been working toward this for so long. You deserve this.”  
  
Pete beamed. “God, thanks, Trick. I haven’t told anyone else about this, not even my parents. I knew you’d be happy for me, and I was so so excited to tell you.”  
  
“Of course I’m happy for you.”  
  
“I’m sorry you can’t come on this one. Just think, when you’re done with high school, you can come on all my tours with me.”  
  
Patrick chuckled. He didn’t bother bringing up that he’d be just as unable to go on tour in college as he was in high school. He thought instead about what Pete meant – that they’d be together this time next year, that even with school and tours and everything else, he and Pete were gonna be okay. “I can’t wait,” Patrick said.  
  
“For now, I guess I’ll just have to push people off when we’re at different venues. I’ll have to let them know I’m seeing someone,” Pete said, winking.   
  
Patrick’s heart stopped. Pete was saying that they were exclusive! He didn’t have to have the conversation. Pete was having it for him! Patrick breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, that’s a great plan,” he said.  
  
“So what did you want to talk about?”  
  
Patrick shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. We should just celebrate tonight.”  
  
“Okay,” Pete said. He lifted his coke. “To us, Pattycakes. To me and you.”  
  
Patrick clinked his glass against Pete’s. “To me and you.”


	11. December: William

The last day before winter break was always full of energy. Everyone was excited about the holidays and the lack of work that came along with them. The teachers didn’t even want to be teaching, so nothing got done and everyone was restless until the bell rang to signal the end of the day. But today was bittersweet for William. He felt like some part of his life really was ending. He had turned in his college applications a week ago, and today marked the end of his last fall semester of high school. He felt like his childhood was slipping away in front of him, and it was scary and exciting and horrible and exhilarating all at once.  
  
He sat in his usual spot in Gabe’s class, doodling so he wouldn’t be obviously staring at Gabe while Gabe read The Gift of the Maji. It was astonishing to William that they’d made it this long without getting caught by anyone. He and Gabe were both slipping; there were a lot of looks exchanged during class and Gabe asked him to stay behind at least once a week, always to flirt. One time, William had come to see Gabe after school for a minute. William had been sitting on Gabe’s desk, Gabe’s hand on his leg, when they heard the door open. William had practically flown off of Gabe’s desk just before one of Gabe’s freshman english students had come in, asking about an assignment.  
  
He loved hearing Gabe read out loud. Gabe had started to read out loud to William after they hooked up, picking up whatever book happened to be by the bed and reading passages while William rested his head on Gabe’s chest. Gabe said it was “continuing education” for William – the books that were assigned in school were basic, and if William wanted to be a writer, he had to hear the literary deep cuts. Hearing Gabe read out loud to the class sent shivers down William’s spine. It reminded him of all those nights in Gabe’s studio, happy and warm and basking in Gabe’s light.  
  
At the end of class, the typical group of girls gathered around Gabe’s desk. William had no reason to be jealous or care, but he still packed up slowly, morbidly curious to see what they were going to say to Gabe.  
  
“Have a GREAT holiday, Mr. Saporta,” one of them said. “Are you staying here or going somewhere to see family?”  
  
“I’m staying here,” Gabe replied, humoring them as usual.  
  
“Do you have any plans?” another asked.  
  
“My partner and I are going to spend some time together,” Gabe answered easily. William’s heart skipped a beat. This was the first time Gabe had mentioned dating anyone in public like this.  
  
“Oh, you’re dating someone?” another girl asked, sounding downcast. All the girls looked heartbroken.  
  
“Yeah,” Gabe answered. “We’ll probably do cute, gross Christmas things. It’s our first holiday together.”  
  
“Oh, it’s a new relationship? Is it serious?” the first girl asked.  
  
“Yes,” Gabe answered after a beat. “It’s pretty serious.”  
  
William had to physically stop himself from smiling as he finished packing his things. He didn’t need to hang around; he’d heard all he wanted to.  
  
As he left, he passed by the group of girls, still hovering over Gabe’s desk. He tried not to, but he couldn’t resist being a little petty. When he passed Gabe’s desk, he said, “Have a good holiday, Mr. Saporta.”  
  
He and Gabe shared a look. The corners of Gabe’s mouth turned upward just a little, like he was trying to hide his customary smirk. “You too, Will.”  
  
Later that night, he knocked on the door to Gabe’s apartment. Gabe had texted him that afternoon to come over and wear something nice. William, who had no clue what to expect, had decided on black slacks and a grey button-down.  
  
When Gabe opened the door, William’s jaw dropped to the floor. This was not what he expected. Gabe had put string lights around the apartment. On the coffee table, there were candles and a bottle of champagne. There were two steaks in a skillet on the stove. Gabe was wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, grey slacks, and a skinny dark blue tie. He was smiling widely. “Hey,” he said, moving to let William in.  
  
“Holy shit,” William said, shrugging his coat off. “This is… beautiful.”  
  
“It’s all for you,” Gabe said, kissing William on the cheek as he moved to the stove to put the steaks on plates that already had roasted asparagus. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”  
  
“Oh my god,” William groaned. “I didn’t get anything or do anything for you. I didn’t know we were doing presents or… grand romantic gestures.”  
  
“Oh, no big deal,” Gabe said. “You’re a high school senior with no disposable income. I didn’t expect anything. This is a celebration of a couple of things anyway.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Turning in your college applications, finishing your last fall semester of high school. Those are big accomplishments. Come, sit.”  
  
William sat on the couch next to Gabe. Gabe set a plate in front of him and opened the champagne. “Thank you for this,” William said as Gabe poured champagne into the glasses.  
  
“Of course,” Gabe said. He held his glass up. “To you, on your way to big things. May you remember all us little people when you go off into the big, big world.”  
  
William smiled and toasted. He took a drink of the champagne. “Shit, that is good,” he said. “We should have this on New Year’s Eve.”  
  
Gabe frowned. “Have we figured out what we’re doing on New Year’s Eve?”  
  
“No, but I just figured we would do it together.”  
  
“Hmm. I usually go to a bar in the city with some college friends. But –“  
  
“But I’m underage.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
William thought for a second. “Well, I bet I could get in with my fake.”  
  
“Yeah, but how do I introduce you to my friends? Even leaving the ‘student’ part out, I couldn’t lie about your age. They’d ask about your job and everything.”  
  
“Oh, yeah,” William responded defeated. Then he remembered, “Oh! Ryan will definitely have a party on New Year’s Eve.”  
  
“You want me to go to a party with a bunch of my students?”  
  
“Right. I guess not.”  
  
“Well, we could just do it here.”  
  
“But you’d miss out on seeing your friends.”  
  
“And so would you.”  
  
William frowned. This had been happening more and more: one of them would bring up something totally innocent, like Friday plans with friends or a party in Chicago, and then they would realize that doing that thing together was totally impossible. There was no way that William could tag along to bars, and there was no way that Gabe could meet William’s friends in a social setting. It scared William more and more every time it happened. It felt like he and Gabe had no future. So he did the same thing every time: he changed the subject.  
  
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “There’s no reason to talk about it now.”  
  
“Exactly,” Gabe said, looking just as happy to be dropping it as William was. “Tonight is about Christmas. And you. And us.”  
  
William smiled and took a bite of his steak, which was cooked perfectly. “Thanks for making me dinner. So domestic of you.”  
  
“What can I say? I’m just a domestic guy.”  
  
William laughed. “And, um, thank you for earlier,” he continued. “For saying what you did to the girls in class.”  
  
Gabe furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I dunno. You didn’t have to say anything to them about the fact that you’re dating someone. And you didn’t have to say it was serious. So thank you for doing that. It meant a lot to hear you talk about me like that.”  
  
“Oh, of course,” Gabe responded. “I know it’s weird right now, but you’re part of my life. I hate having to hide that from people.”  
  
“Thank you. This is amazing,” William said, meaning the dinner and the decorated apartment, but also Gabe in general. “All of this.”  
  
“You’re worth it,” Gabe said. “Plus, I love giving you shit to write about.”  
  
William laughed. “Yeah, this whole setup is very storybook romantic.”  
  
“Good,” Gabe replied. “Nothing would be cooler than picking up a book written by William Beckett and realizing he had written about me.”  
  
“Well that’s probably a long way off,” William said.  
  
“I don’t know,” Gabe said. “You’re an incredible writer. I’m not gifting you As. You have a really strong voice, and I’m so excited to see what you do with it.”  
  
William smiled. Gabe smiled back. William looked at Gabe, smiling that smile like he was in on a joke that no one else understood, wearing a shirt and tie that he put on just for William. In the window behind Gabe, William could see it was starting to snow, but he felt so warm in here, next to this person who was supportive and sweet and funny. And then he felt it: that shift in your chest when you realize everything is coming into focus, that light in your heart when you realize everything just got easier. He loved Gabe. Deeply, in a way that scared and excited him. It felt so big that he couldn’t even say it, not yet. He wanted the world to stop for a little bit, so he could hold onto this moment as long as possible.  
  
But Gabe had other plans. “That reminds me!” he said, reaching under the coffee table. “I got you this.”  
  
He handed William a small box wrapped in gold paper. William tore through the paper and opened the box to find three gold fountain pens.  
  
“Wow,” William said. “Wow. Thank you. Have I said ‘thank you’ too much tonight? I feel like I haven’t said it enough.”  
  
Gabe laughed. “You’ve said it just enough. These are for you to continue your writing career. I really can’t wait to see what you do in college and beyond. Where are you thinking about going next year? What are your top choices?”  
  
“DePaul, maybe Northwestern. Somewhere close,” William responded. “Why?”  
  
“I just wanted to know,” Gabe said. “I’m glad you want to be close. I want to be together for a long time, ya know? I want to get to a place where we don’t have to hide.”  
  
William kissed Gabe then, soft and wanting, hoping Gabe understood what he wanted to say but couldn’t. Gabe held William’s face in his hands as he kissed back. He felt totally overwhelmed, like everything was happening perfectly, like the world was turning just for him and Gabe to have this night together.  
  
Gabe pulled away. “You know what this night is missing? Dancing,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket to hook it up to the speaker.  
  
“Dancing?” William asked, not totally sure if Gabe was being serious.  
  
“Yeah,” Gabe said. He turned the speaker on, and the first notes of Merry Christmas Darling began to play. Gabe stood up and held his hand out. “Come on, Will. Dance with me.”  
  
William stood up and took Gabe’s hand. They moved to the middle of the room and Gabe wrapped his arms around William’s waist, pulling William into his chest. William pressed his body to Gabe’s and rested his head on Gabe’s shoulder, swaying with him to the music. They didn’t talk, but that was okay. William danced with Gabe in the middle of his apartment, surrounded by string lights and old books and the snow falling outside, totally enveloped in Gabe’s embrace, falling more and more in love with every passing second. Gabe wanted William to write about him, and William knew it would be impossible not to. As they moved around the room in tiny circles, William had the thought that he could spend his entire life trying to write about this moment. That would be a life well spent.


	12. December: Patrick

It had been a long month. While Pete had been playing shows across two different states, living the dream life, Patrick had been doing… homework. Not that he was bitter. He was so excited for Pete’s hard work to be paying off, and it was very cool to tell people at parties that his boyfriend was on tour. And Pete had been as attentive as possible since he left. They had texted all the time, and they had had some pretty excellent phone sex. Patrick was just ready to have Pete back. He missed Pete so much, and Bill and Brendon talked a lot about the action they were getting. Patrick was frankly VERY tired of jacking off listening to Pete’s heavy breathing on the phone. He wanted someone else to touch his dick.  
  
Which was why tonight was probably going to be the best night in Patrick’s short life. Pete was finally home from his tour, and in a mere ten seconds Patrick was going to walk through the door of Pete’s apartment and fall into his arms. His body tingled as he knocked on Pete’s door. Was this what it was like to have a boyfriend? To miss him so much while he was gone that you felt like an electric current was running through you at just the thought of kissing him?  
  
Pete opened the door, all smiles. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his jeans hung so low that his pelvic bone was exposed. He was sweating a little. Patrick’s mouth went dry. Absence definitely made the heart grow fonder.  
  
“Trickster,” Pete said, leaning down to Patrick and kissing him deeply. “I missed you.”  
  
“I missed you too,” Patrick replied, walking into the apartment. “Tell me everything. I want to hear all about the tour.”  
  
“Mmm, later,” Pete said, smirking. He closed the door and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s waist. “It’s been a month and you just want to talk?”  
  
Patrick smiled. He did not just want to talk. He kissed Pete hard. God, it had been so long. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be filled with this much desire, to have it reciprocated. He wrapped his arms around Pete’s shoulders, his fingers tracing the tattoo on Pete’s neck. It felt like a dream to have Pete in his hands like this, to know exactly how to make Pete groan and sigh.   
  
Pete pulled away and kissed Patrick’s earlobe. “Bedroom?” he whispered, and the chill that Patrick got from Pete’s breath against his skin went straight to his dick. He nodded.   
  
They tumbled into the bedroom together, Patrick barely breaking away from Pete as Pete pulled Patrick’s coat and tee shirt off of him. As Patrick fell onto Pete’s bed, he gripped Pete’s waist, marveling at the contrast between his own pale, untouched skin and Pete’s tattoos and tan. Pete crouched above Patrick, smiling and licking his lips. This was not the first time that the thought crossed Patrick’s mind that Pete was a god.   
  
Pete leaned down to kiss Patrick again. Patrick gripped the back of Pete’s neck and ran his tongue against Pete’s, willing this kiss to last forever, desperate to keep smelling and tasting Pete for the rest of his life.  
  
Pete hummed into the kiss and ran his hand along Patrick’s erection, which was pressing against his jeans. Patrick moaned and shifted, aching for Pete to press harder or do literally anything that would mean more contact. Pete broke away from the kiss with a “pop,” smirking a little.  
  
“I guess you did miss me,” Pete breathed. Patrick could tell Pete was trying to sound hot, to take control, but Patrick knew Pete well enough to know that Pete was also aching for this, that he wanted it as bad as Patrick did.  
  
“You could say that,” Patrick said, arching his back and pressing his erection harder against Pete’s hand. Pete chuckled. Patrick loved who he was with Pete – experienced, sexy, not afraid to ask for what he wanted. He felt like a grownup when they were together, like he had moved past anxiety and baby fat and virginity. Pete made him feel so good, so _different_.  
  
Pete kissed a line down Patrick’s chest as he undid Patrick’s jeans. Patrick couldn’t help whimpering. He had waited so long for this. Pete laughed, his lips still brushing against Patrick’s skin, and the warmth of his breath on Patrick’s stomach, so close to the waistband of his boxers, was almost enough to send Patrick over the edge. “Mmm, Pete, come on,” he groaned, tired of teasing. He needed more.  
  
“Alright,” Pete said, his voice low. He pushed Patrick’s jeans and boxers down to his ankles. Pete had the heat on in the house, but the exposure still made Patrick feel cold, craving a different type of warmth. Pete pushed himself to Patrick’s mouth and kissed him, hot and wet and slow. Pete moaned into the kiss, and when he pulled away, his eyes were dark. “I missed this. I’ve wanted you for so long, since last time I saw you. You’re everything, Patrick.”  
  
Patrick smiled. Pete was prone to random bursts of romance, especially in bed, and Patrick appreciated it but he needed something else right this second. “Wanna show me?”  
  
Pete grinned and bent down so that his mouth was inches from Patrick’s dick. Patrick sighed and willed himself not to buck into Pete’s mouth. He knew the waiting would make it better, but god, he would take anything right now.  
  
And then Pete took Patrick into his mouth, and Patrick’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was always caught off-guard by blowjobs, the heat and wet and pressure of them, and Pete was just so good with his mouth. He was sucking Patrick hard, the way he knew Patrick would like it, moving quickly and deepthroating and making little noises that reverberated into Patrick’s chest. Patrick carded his hands through Pete’s hair, careful not to push Pete’s head down too much. Pete grabbed Patrick’s ass as he continued. Patrick knew it had been too long. He knew it wasn’t going to last. As he felt Pete’s mouth on him, he willed himself to just wait, to just stay in this moment, to feel this feeling just a little bit longer…  
  
His body wouldn’t listen. His vision whited out and he came hard into Pete’s mouth, moaning and biting his lip, thrusting involuntarily. Pete swallowed and came up for air, breathing heavily. “I love making you come,” he said, laying on the bed next to Patrick. “Almost as much as I love coming for you.”  
  
Patrick smiled and kissed Pete as he kicked his jeans all the way off and shoved Pete’s jeans to his knees. He gripped Pete’s cock and worked him, quick and dirty, as he kissed Pete’s neck. He sucked on the skin just a little, hoping that there would be a mark left.   
  
“ _God,_ ” Pete groaned, gripping the sheets. “God Patrick, that feels – feels so –“  
  
He came into Patrick’s hand, grunting and bucking. Patrick kept his mouth on Pete’s neck while he came so he could feel the muscles in his neck tense and relax. It felt good, unbelievably good, to have this kind of control over Pete. He pulled a sheet over himself as Pete padded into the bathroom to clean himself off. He loved evenings like this, lazy and warm with this otherworldly guy who, for some reason, felt like giving Patrick the time of day, felt like giving him so much more than that.  
  
Pete came back and jumped into bed, nuzzling Patrick’s neck. “That was good,” he whispered, snaking an arm around Patrick’s torso.  
  
“Yeah,” Patrick replied, feeling sleepy. “Can we just stay in bed for the rest of the night?”  
  
“If you want,” Pete said. “Do you have to go home tonight or can you stay over?”  
  
“I have to go home. Tomorrow is Christmas eve, my parents have all these traditions they want to do one more time before I go to college.”  
  
“Little Trickster in the big world,” Pete said. “Soon you’ll be running shit.”  
  
“I don’t know about that. I don’t even know what I’m gonna go to college for.”  
  
“You’re not doing music?”  
  
Patrick laughed. “I don’t think so. That’s just a hobby. That’s not, like, a career.” He looked at Pete. “I mean, it is for some of us, but not everyone is as good as you.”  
  
“You’re better than me.”  
  
“I am not.”  
  
“You are. Patrick, I’ve heard you play and I’ve heard you sing. You’re _incredibly_ good. You could have a future with it.”  
  
“Yeah, but I’d have to, like, play in front of people.”  
  
“Maybe not. You could be a composer or a songwriter or a producer. You could do a lot. And you’d be good at all of it.”  
  
Patrick smiled. “Yeah, maybe.” He loved the support he got from Pete. He loved that hearing Pete say something almost made it true. He felt like he could do anything if Pete said he could.  
  
“I’m hungry,” Pete said. “Let’s order takeout.”  
  
“Yes please.”  
  
“Oh, my phone’s in the living room. I’ll grab it.”  
  
“No, I’ll get it,” Patrick said, climbing out of bed and pulling his boxers on. “I want to grab some water from the kitchen.”  
  
“Good deal,” Pete said, closing his eyes.  
  
Pete’s phone was on the couch. Patrick grabbed it and brought it with him to get a glass of water. As he filled the glass from the tap, he heard the phone vibrate. He looked down at the notification on instinct. A name appeared on the screen: JOHN – MISSOURI.  
  
Patrick recognized that he should not snoop through his boyfriend’s phone. But he also recognized that Pete didn’t lock his phone and that he was a naturally curious person, especially when it came to Pete and other boys. So he checked the text.  
  
 _Miss you more. Hope you come back soon. xx  
  
_ Patrick couldn’t find his breath. The room started spinning. His fingers shaking, he scrolled quickly through the text conversation between Pete and this Missouri guy. It went back a week, but there were lots of texts, all flirty conversations about who was cuter and references to “that night in Minneapolis.” Patrick was going to throw up. But first, he was going to yell at Pete. And then he was going to leave.  
  
“Pete, what is this?” were the only words that Patrick could say when he got back to the bedroom, the question blaring in his mind like an airhorn.  
  
“What’s what?” Pete asked lazily, still laying in bed.  
  
“These text messages, this guy. John. What the fuck is this?”  
  
“Oh. It’s just a guy I met a week or so ago. I’m never gonna see him again.”  
  
Patrick’s brain was going to explode. Why was Pete being so casual about this? “Why did you… _see_ him at all? You… you cheated on me. This is cheating.”  
  
“Hold up,” Pete said, sitting up. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“You’re supposed to be my _boyfriend_ , and you hooked up with another guy. That’s obviously cheating.”  
  
“Patrick, what? I’m not your boyfriend.”  
  
The world screeched to a halt. Patrick felt all of the blood in his body rush to his head. He could hear it in his ears, could feel his face turning red. His entire universe shattered. “But…” he said, quieter than he wanted to. “But that night, before you left. You said. You said you were going to tell people to back off, that you were seeing someone. I… I thought…” he couldn’t finish. He felt like an idiot. He didn’t know whether to be mad at Pete, or mad at himself, or just totally, irrevocably sad.  
  
“Uh, that was just like… a jokey thing I said. I could tell you were kinda upset about the late notice so I was just trying to lighten the mood. That wasn’t… what you thought it was.”  
  
That explanation was not good enough for Patrick. He bought fully into the “be mad at Pete” option. “You WHAT?” he said, trying hard not to scream. “You said that you were going to tell people we were exclusive… to get a laugh? What the FUCK, Pete? You _know_ I want to be exclusive with you! You know I want to be your boyfriend.”  
  
“I don’t know that.”  
  
“Am I in crazy town? You don’t remember when you were flirting with that roadie before Ryan’s party and I told you I wanted to be together? Just us?”  
  
“That was a million years ago, Patrick.”  
  
“That was TWO MONTHS AGO.”   
  
“Yeah, well, I usually don’t date people for that long, so it feels like a million years.”  
  
“How can you say we’re dating if you’re not my boyfriend?”  
  
Pete took a deep breath. “I know you’re new to this, but this is normal. People date, as in go on dates and hang out and hook up, without being exclusive.”  
  
“I don’t want that.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Pete. Why can’t you just be my boyfriend? Why do we have to draw these lines and make up these definitions?”  
  
“I don’t… that’s not how I operate, Patrick. I like you so much, and I like what we have. I don’t want to put more pressure on it.”  
  
Patrick didn’t know what to say. Didn’t what he wanted matter? “Why do I feel like I’m getting the short end of the stick here?”  
  
“Patrick.” Pete held his hand out. “Come here.”  
  
Patrick moved slowly toward the bed and sat on the end of it. Pete looked so open and sad, and it warmed Patrick’s heart a little, even though he was sure he wasn’t going to like what Pete had to say.  
  
“Can you please just try this for me?” Pete asked. “It’s probably weird for you because you’ve been resistant to it. Nothing will change about us.”  
  
“But why does anyone else have to be involved at all?” Patrick was getting closer to the question he wanted to ask, although he was afraid to as it. _Why wasn’t he enough?_  
  
“Patrick. No one else comes to my apartment. I don’t spend all of my time with anyone else. I got home from the tour 12 hours ago, and who was the first person I wanted to see? Like I said, I don’t usually stick around this long. You have to know that I like you. I like you so much and I don’t feel this way about anyone else. And isn’t that all that matters? How I feel about you? How we feel about each other?”  
  
Patrick hesitated. He figured that should be all that mattered, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t. But Pete had a point. They spent all their time together, and Pete had never told Patrick they couldn’t hang out. And it wasn’t anything like Bill and Gabe’s relationship, where they hid out all the time. Pete never tried to keep Patrick a secret. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe this was the best way to move forward. Maybe it would be easier if there were no misunderstandings, miscommunications. He nodded.  
  
Pete perked up. “So you’ll try this with me? No more fights about this?”  
  
Patrick nodded again, ignoring the small part of his brain that was screaming at him not to.  
  
“Trick,” Pete whispered, opening his arms to Patrick. Patrick crawled into Pete’s embrace, pressing against Pete’s chest. “You’re always gonna be my number one,” Pete said, kissing the top of Patrick’s head.  
  
Patrick hummed in response. He didn’t know what he was feeling. He didn’t understand why he felt so sad. He reminded himself of how lucky he had felt just an hour ago. He was in a relationship (was this a relationship?) that lots of people would kill to be in. Pete was a catch, someone who captured the attention of everyone, wherever he went. And Patrick had captured Pete’s attention. That was enough. It had to be.  
  
Patrick burrowed his face into Pete’s chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wished that they never had to leave this room, this apartment. He wished that. They could spend their entire relationship here, away from everyone else. He knew Pete said that he only really _cared_ about Patrick, that no one else really mattered. Patrick wished, with every bone in his body, that he could find a way to believe that.


	13. December: Brendon

Brendon laid in bed and scrolled through his phone for the fifth time in about two hours. This was the worst part of winter break – Christmas was over and the presents had all lost their luster, and all New Year’s Eve meant was that school was going to start again the day after tomorrow. Brendon had seen a lot of Patrick and Bill and a lot of Sarah recently, but he hadn’t seen Ryan since before Christmas, when they got drunk together at Ryan’s to celebrate the A they got on their song. They’d texted a little, but it had been mostly radio silence. It made Brendon nervous. He worried that he’d done something to upset Ryan, or that they’d spent so much time working on the song that Ryan got tired of him. Even though he told himself that he was checking social media because he was bored, he knew deep down that he was actually checking to see if Ryan had posted anything. Which he hadn’t for about a week.  
  
Brendon got a notification that he had been tagged in a photo in Instagram. He clicked through to see that Sarah had posted a picture of them from last night. They’d gone to Arlo to see Pete’s band, and Sarah had asked Bill to take pictures of them. Brendon stared at the photo that Sarah had picked, the first one either of them had posted that would suggest that they were a couple. Sarah was looking at Brendon, dressed in skinny gray jeans and a black crop top, Brendon’s flannel tied around her waist. Brendon was looking at the camera, laughing at something Sarah had said, his arm around her shoulders. Brendon could see that Sarah was wearing the bracelet Brendon had gotten her for Christmas. The caption was a black emoji heart.  
  
Brendon sighed. It was a good picture by all accounts. And it was definitely time to become Instagram official: they had been seeing each other for close to three months, they were starting to hang out with each other’s friends, they had exchanged pretty nice gifts for Christmas. And when he looked at this picture with Sarah, he saw a happy guy dating a happy girl. This was what he’d wanted. But he felt strange looking at the picture, like he was looking at someone else’s life. And he felt nervous about being this official with Sarah. He wasn’t sure he wanted everyone to see the picture, to see how serious they were.  
  
He double-tapped the picture and climbed out of bed.  
  
His parents were already at work. He showered and connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker Sarah got him. He turned the music all the way up, just to hear how loud it could get. It could get pretty loud. He threw on some sweatpants and looked through his closet to see what he was going to wear to Ryan’s New Year’s Eve party tonight. Sarah had wanted to go out to dinner for the occasion, and she had gotten a little upset when Brendon insisted that they go to the party, but Brendon knew she understood. Somehow, Brendon had become as much a staple of Ryan’s parties as Ryan himself. He was the only person who went to all of them, and people viewed Ryan and Brendon as a partnership. And maybe Brendon viewed them that way too.  
  
He texted Sarah. Over break, he’d started texting her whenever he thought too much about Ryan, which was a lot, especially since Ryan had started to pull away. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what Bill meant every time he asked Brendon if he was seeing anyone other than Sarah. He saw the looks that Patrick gave him when he talked about Ryan a little too much. He knew what it meant for people to think of him and Ryan as a “partnership,” especially with the added context of his best friends. And most of all, he knew how he felt. He knew he was a little obsessed with Ryan. He figured it was just a result of them spending too much time together, of that weird night at the party in October. He’d spent a little time thinking with his dick, and that was fine, but that was over. _What are you wearing tonight?_ he sent. Then he sent another text: _That picture is really great, you look very cute.  
  
Thanks! You look pretty cute yourself. And do you wanna know what dress I’m gonna wear or what I’m gonna wear under the dress? _Sarah responded in frankly record speed.  
  
Brendon chuckled. _Both_ , he sent back.  
  
He gave up on finding an outfit for tonight and wandered downstairs. He grabbed a Pop Tart and turned on the TV, still texting Sarah. God, she was sweet. And hot. And funny. The perfect package. She had mentioned something last week about the parties they would go to when they both went to Northeastern Illinois University next year. Brendon didn’t think it would be terrible to go to school with Sarah. He didn’t tell her he was hoping to get into UNLV.  
  
Which was seeming like a strange plan all of a sudden. He had thought about going to school with Ryan, to continue their friendship and maybe start a band or something. But now that it seemed like Ryan didn’t want to hang out as much, that seemed like a silly idea. Against his better judgment, Brendon scrolled through his texts with Ryan. The last time they had texted was the day after Christmas, to ask how each other’s holidays were. Brendon put his phone down and flipped through the channels on TV. He landed on a reality TV show about fishermen in Alaska and ate his Pop Tart. What was he gonna do with his day? Patrick had stayed over at Pete’s, and Bill was spending the day with Mr. Saporta to make up for the fact that they weren’t spending the night together. There was a time when Brendon didn’t have to keep tabs on his friends, when he just knew that they’d all be together. They used to send practically every day of winter break together. They weren’t worried about boyfriends or girlfriends or other friends or college or homework or any of it. He guessed he was going to have to get used to this. They were all going to have separate lives soon enough, and it was probably starting now.  
  
He watched TV for about an hour when he felt his phone vibrate. He thought it was probably Sarah, wanting to ask if a certain pair of shoes was going to look good or if Brendon wanted her to get weed for tonight. But when he picked up his phone, Ryan’s name came across the screen. Brendon couldn’t answer fast enough.  
  
“Hey,” he said, trying to sound chill.  
  
“Hey, Bren. What’s going on?”  
  
“Not much, you know. Getting ready for tonight. It should be fun, right?”  
  
“Yeah. Are you ready now?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Do you wanna come over now?”  
  
There was something in Ryan’s voice. He wasn’t bubbly or chatty, like normal. He sounded subdued, and Ryan was not normally subdued. It worried Brendon.  
  
“I’ll be over in ten,” he said. He hung up, ran upstairs, threw on a v neck and jeans, and raced out to his car.  
  
Ryan answered as soon as he knocked on the door. It was as if he had been waiting for him. “Hey,” he said. “Come in.”  
  
Brendon walked into Ryan’s house. He kind of hated it at Ryan’s when no one was around. It was too big and felt kind of like a museum, full of weird knickknacks that Brendon was too afraid to touch.  
  
“Hey,” Brendon said. “Is your dad around?”  
  
“Uh, no,” Ryan said. He looked sad. He had circles under his eyes and his hair was messy. “Let’s go to my room.”  
  
Brendon followed Ryan to his room silently. When they got in, Ryan collapsed onto the bed. Brendon stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do.  
  
After a moment of silence, Ryan sat up. “Sorry, I forgot to ask if you wanted anything to eat or drink.”  
  
Brendon shook his head. “I’m okay. Are you? Okay, I mean.”  
  
Ryan sucked his cheeks in and looked down. “I’ve been better.” His body started to shake. Brendon realized he was crying.  
  
He rushed to Ryan’s bed, sat next to Ryan and put his arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “Hey, what’s up?”  
  
“Things, uh, haven’t been great. With my dad and, just, at home. Winter break has been hard.”  
  
Brendon rubbed Ryan’s shoulder. Seeing Ryan like this was killing him. “Do you wanna talk about it? I wanna hear about it.”  
  
“We just fight a lot,” Ryan said, wiping his eyes and looking at Brendon. “He was getting better about drinking, but he fell off the wagon. And he’s a mean drunk.”  
  
“He doesn’t… I mean… he’s not hitting you, or…”  
  
“No, it’s not like that. He just gets… mean. Really creative with insults. It’s why my mom’s not around anymore. And since she’s not around, I get the brunt of it. The makeup, the sexual fluidity, he doesn’t like it. And he makes it clear.”  
  
“Ryan,” Brendon whispered. “I am so, so sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay. It’s not even the worst of it. He travels a lot, you know, for work. But he’s not always going on work trips. Sometimes he goes into Chicago to drink and I don’t see him for days. He left yesterday morning and I don’t know how long he’ll be gone. I don’t know where he is, I don’t know how to get a hold of him. That’s worse. Not knowing what’s going on is worse than putting up with him.”  
  
Brendon wrapped his arms around Ryan. Ryan collapsed into Brendon’s embrace and started to cry again. Brendon stroked Ryan’s hair. He couldn’t believe that Ryan had dealt with this quietly for so long. And even though he knew it wasn’t about him, he felt a deep sense of pride that he was the person Ryan called when it got to be too much. He wanted to be there for Ryan every single time something like this happened. Every time Ryan cried, Brendon wanted to be there to hold him, to help him through it.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay,” Brendon said. “You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”  
  
“I know,” Ryan replied, not crying anymore but not leaving Brendon’s arms. “And I won’t have to deal with it for much longer. Less than a year and I’m out of here. And I’m not coming back.”  
  
“Don’t… talk like that,” Brendon said. He couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Ryan anymore, of not being able to do this.  
  
Ryan moved out of Brendon’s arms and looked up at him. “What do you expect me to say? In Vegas, I had friends. I could hang out with any number of people while this was happening. Here, I have people that come to my parties, come to my house, but I have nowhere to go. I’m… alone.”  
  
“You can come to _me_ ,” Brendon replied emphatically.  
  
“But you’ve got your friends and your girlfriend and your family and your whole life. I have no right to weasel my way into that.”  
  
“Ryan. I want you to. I want to be there for you.” Brendon’s heart was racing. He realized he was still holding Ryan’s hand, but neither of them let go. “ _I_ asked you to come to Thanksgiving. _I_ came over here. We aren’t just project partners. Or even just friends. I want to be the person you call when things like this happen. I want to be the first person you think of when you need to be cheered up. I want…” Brendon couldn’t finish. What did he want from Ryan? What did he want Ryan to want from him? Why couldn’t he just say the things he wanted to say? He felt like he was overheating.  
  
Ryan let go of Brendon’s hand and touched Brendon’s cheek. “Thanks, Bren,” he whispered. “I want all of that too. Thank you for being such a good friend to me.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Brendon answered. “It’s no problem at all.”  
  
“I really… care about you.”  
  
“I care about you too.” Suddenly, Brendon got the feeling that he and Ryan were standing on a cliff. If they just jumped off together, who knew what they would find, what they would uncover about each other.  
  
Ryan smiled and squeezed his eyes shut. “Brendon,” he said firmly. “Brendon, you _know_ I don’t mean just… You know what I mean, right?”  
  
This was it. All of the _different but not wrong_ moments, the looks and songs and tension, could all be erased right now, written off as weird things two friends did as they got to know each other. All he had to do was say he didn’t know. Ryan would drop it, and they would go back to just being Ryan and Brendon, two friends who had a good time at parties.  
  
“I know what you mean,” he said.  
  
“And you feel it, too.” Ryan was saying it, not asking it. Brendon nodded.  
  
Ryan touched Brendon’s cheek again. “I’m… I’m going to do something. And you can say no or push me away or do whatever you need to do. But I’m going to try it.”  
  
Brendon nodded again, his eyes wide, his heart beating out of his chest. They were jumping off the cliff together, right here, in Ryan’s dark bedroom on New Year’s Eve.  
  
Ryan leaned forward, eyes closed. Brendon’s breath shook. Watching Ryan come closer and closer to him was psyching him out, so he closed his eyes too.  
  
After a second, he felt Ryan’s mouth on his. It was clumsy at first, probably because neither of them were looking at each other. And Ryan wasn’t _kissing_ Brendon, exactly. He had just pressed his mouth against Brendon’s. Which was weird. They both knew how to kiss people.  
  
Almost involuntarily, Brendon made a little noise of approval. And then, suddenly, it was a kiss. Ryan opened his lips slightly against Brendon’s, and Brendon tilted his head to open his mouth, too. Ryan held Brendon’s face in his hands. Brendon put his hands on Ryan’s waist. Was this what kissing boys was like? No, fuck that, this was what kissing _Ryan_ was like. This was better, more important,than kissing any random girl or boy. Now that it was happening, Brendon knew that he had wanted this for so long, since the first day of school, maybe even since the first night they met, when he was so annoyed by Ryan, but so so curious.  
  
Ryan ran his tongue along the inside of Brendon’s mouth. God, that felt good. It felt freeing, like Brendon had locked some part of himself away, and here was Ryan, rescuing him. Brendon reciprocated. He knew he was a good kisser, and he knew how badly he wanted to be kissing Ryan. He pressed his hands against Ryan’s body and pulled himself closer. Ryan wrapped his arms around Brendon’s neck. Brendon pressed his lips firmly against Ryan’s. He wanted this to last. He didn’t care what he or Ryan had to do today. The outside world didn’t even matter right now. There was just this.  
  
They broke apart for air. How long had they been kissing? A few moments? A few minutes? All day? All Brendon knew was that he didn’t want to stop. It was like the floodgates had been opened.  
  
But Ryan didn’t come back in to kiss him again. Instead, he pushed Brendon’s hair out of his eyes and smiled. “That was really nice,” he said. “Really nice.”  
  
“Yeah, it was,” Brendon agreed. He felt like he was on fire. Should he try to kiss Ryan again? What would happen now? What about the party?  
  
“What are you doing the rest of the day?” Ryan asked, suddenly his usual self. “Wanna get lunch?”  
  
“Uh, I guess. I have to pick up Sarah eventually. For tonight.”  
  
“Oh right, I guess I need to set everything up for that. Well, wanna hang out for a bit before we have to do all that?”  
  
“Lunch sounds good,” Brendon said, shell shocked. Did he dream kissing Ryan? Why was everything suddenly… like this?  
  
Ryan got up, leaving Brendon sitting on the bed. He brushed his hair and grabbed a coat. “Alright, let’s head out. Where do you want to eat?”  
  
“Ryan,” Brendon said, feeling like he was going crazy. “Come on, we can’t… that can’t be it.”  
  
Ryan smiled and sat next to Brendon on the bed. He took Brendon’s hand and said, voice low, “Bren, if you don’t want that to be it, that’s not it. Not even close.”  
  
He pecked Brendon on the lips, so quickly Brendon wasn’t sure it had happened at all, and stood up again. “Let’s get going. I’m hungry.”  
  
They went to the diner to eat lunch. Brendon picked up Sarah. They went to Ryan’s party. Brendon hung out with Bill and Patrick and Ryan and Sarah and Audrey all night. He kissed Sarah at midnight. But through it all, he still couldn’t shake what Ryan had said about the kiss not being it. And he definitely couldn’t shake how much the thought of kissing Ryan again, of doing more than kissing, excited him.


	14. January: Patrick

“Whoa, slow down,” Bill said as Patrick chugged his third beer in 30 minutes. “We’re trying to get drunk, not, like, die.”  
  
Patrick shrugged and smiled, even though he felt like garbage. It was rare that Pete didn’t come to Ryan’s parties with him, but tonight he had a show in the city and couldn’t swing both. Patrick had decided to come to Ryan’s party instead of going to the show, a move he figured would prove to Pete that he was totally okay not exclusively dating Pete. It had been a few weeks since their fight after Pete came home from his tour, and ever since Patrick realized that Pete didn’t want to commit, he looked at their relationship in a totally different light. He’d noticed that all they’d done since the summer was go to Pete’s shows, go to Ryan’s parties, and hang out at Pete’s apartment. Except for a few times when they had gone to the mall or the movies and the one time they’d gone to Olive Garden, they really hadn’t gone on _dates_ , at least not the way Brendon and Sarah did or the way Bill and Mr. Saporta did. Patrick realized, without anyone telling him, that he and Pete had spent months just hanging out instead of dating. Which sucked. This was not how Patrick expected his first-ever relationship to look. But at least he still got to hang out with Pete. At least Pete still wanted him, still kissed him like he meant it, still made Patrick feel good and special when they were together. So why not try it the way Pete wanted to? He’d started giving Pete space, not asking to hang out every Friday, not following him to every show he played (he was playing in a lot of new venues recently), not asking who he was texting or if he was planning on seeing anyone else.  
  
Which did not make it hurt less when Pete didn’t ask _him_ to hang out, when Pete was totally cool with Patrick not coming to shows, when Pete didn’t volunteer any information about other people he was seeing.  
  
And of course, there was the small problem of Bill and Brendon slowly liking Pete less and less.   
  
“Look,” Brendon said over the music, “If he wanted to be here, he would be here. There’s no point in sitting at a party being bummed about it.”  
  
“He can’t be here,” Patrick replied, head cloudy. He was definitely already drunk. “He has a show.”  
  
“Well if he wanted you to go, he would’ve asked you.”  
  
“I was the one who told him I didn’t want to go.”  
  
“And if he really wanted you to go, he would’ve tried to get you to change your mind,” Bill said, exasperated. “Look, I know you like him a lot, and he’s not the worst person in the world, but he’s being a little…” he caught himself and took a sip of his beer instead of finishing.  
  
“A little what?” Patrick asked. “Just say it.”  
  
“He’s being a little… inadequate,” Bill said. “You deserve better than him.”  
  
“Easy for you to say,” Patrick snapped. “Both of you.”  
  
“Jesus, sorry,” Brendon said.   
  
Patrick took a breath. He knew it wasn’t their fault that Patrick was in this situation, and he knew that they were just looking out for him. But it was so hard to watch Bill be put on a pedestal by Mr. Saporta and Brendon become one half of the school’s favorite new couple while he was just trying to take the cards he was dealt and wait out this weird time in his relationship with Pete. He knew it would be easier once Pete came around and started dating him for real. He just wished he knew when that would be.   
  
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just on edge.” He opened the fridge and got another beer.   
  
“You are going to drink me out of house and home tonight,” Ryan said as he strode into the kitchen. He was smiling in a goofy way and his eyes were bloodshot. Sarah was with him, licking her lips and walking slowly.  
  
“If you two keep smoking together, I’m going to have some competition,” Brendon said as soon as he saw them.   
  
“Oh, don’t worry Bren. Sarah’s only got eyes for you,” Ryan replied, smiling at Brendon as Sarah pressed her body into Brendon’s side, wrapping her arms around his torso.  
  
“Ryan,” Bill said. “What’s up with Pete, relationship-wise? What does it take for him to lock someone down?”  
  
“Pete?” Ryan said, then he shook his head. “Pete doesn’t lock anything down. I’ve known him basically my whole life and I can’t remember the last time he had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Actually, the longest I remember him hanging around anyone is…” Ryan trailed off and pointed at Patrick. “Sorry dude, that was probably too blunt.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Patrick said, downing most of his beer. “At least I’m the person he’s been with the longest. That’s gotta be an advantage.”  
  
“Yeah, he likes you a lot,” Ryan said. “Anyway, I’m gonna go smoke another joint. Who wants in?”  
  
“Me,” Sarah said. “Come on, Brendon, you too.”  
  
“Yeah Bren, you too,” Ryan said.  
  
Brendon smiled. “Alright, I guess I have no choice. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”  
  
Patrick and Bill nodded in response, even though Patrick knew he was not going to see Brendon for the rest of the night.  
  
“What do you think’s going on with them?” Bill asked the second Brendon left, hoisting himself onto the counter.  
  
“Probably nothing,” Patrick responded. Bill had such a flair for drama, and Patrick was not into the idea of fueling that fire. But the truth was that Patrick thought something was going on between Ryan and Brendon too. He figured Brendon would tell them eventually.  
  
“Could you imagine them having a three-way? Insane,” Bill said, finishing his vodka sprite.   
  
“Oh my god,” Patrick giggled. “You know that’s not what’s happening.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Bill replied. “But seriously, should we talk to Brendon? The way he and Ryan stare at each other all the time…”  
  
“You know Brendon will tell us whatever he wants to whenever he wants to.”  
  
“Very wise from someone who’s so obviously drunk.”  
  
“What can I say? I’m smart.”  
  
Bill grinned at Patrick. “But seriously,” he said, “Are you doing okay with all of your stuff? I don’t like that Pete makes you upset.”  
  
“I’m doinggreat,” Patrick said, tripping up on the “g” sound in a way that made “doing” and “great” sound like one word. “This is just an adult relationship, like you said that one time.”  
  
“You’re sure you’re cool with it though? Because you don’t have to be.”  
  
“I _am_. I’m so cool with it. I’ve been flirting with other people and it’s been super fun.” Patrick hoped that Bill would let his obvious lie slide. He’d tried flirting with other people, the cute barista at the Starbucks he always went to and some guys at Arlo, but it always made him feel weird. He wasn’t cool with it, not really. But right now, Patrick was drunk and he wanted Bill to stop looking so concerned. He just wanted to forget about this whole thing. He wanted to be cool with it. So he said, “In fact, since Pete’s not my boyfriend, I could hook up with anybody here tonight and it wouldn’t be a problem at all.”   
  
Bill’s eyes lit up in a way that made Patrick a little nervous. “Patrick. Are you saying you want to have your first one-night stand?”  
  
Patrick shrugged. Maybe he did. He didn’t totally hate the idea. He was confident enough when it came to hooking up now. It might be fun. And if he could find a way to let it slip to Pete that he had hooked up with someone else, maybe that would make Pete jealous. Maybe it would steer him in the right direction.  
  
“Fuck yes,” Bill said. “Let’s go find someone for you to kiss.” He jumped off of the counter and made another vodka sprite. Patrick took the opportunity to grab another beer from the fridge.  
  
When Bill was done, he grabbed Patrick’s wrist and led him out of the kitchen and into the throngs of people in Ryan’s house. The music coming from the living room made the house shake, and Patrick could feel it in his chest. He was excited and a little nervous. If anyone could tell him how to get with a guy, it was Bill, but Patrick was acutely aware that whoever Patrick ended up hooking up with would only be his second hookup. And that it wouldn’t be Pete.  
  
“Okay, there are enough people here that you don’t need to hook up with anyone from school,” Bill was saying into Patrick’s ear. Patrick sipped his beer. He was finding it hard to focus. “And no one too young. That’s always weird.”  
  
They pushed through the crowd in the hallway, Bill leading Patrick, until they got into the living room. Bill scanned the room. Patrick tried, but his vision was already blurring around the edges.   
  
But then Patrick caught a flash of bleached blonde hair, and his vision came back into focus. Bill noticed him at the same time. “What about that guy?” Bill said, pointing at him. “Holy shit. If I was single, I would go for that guy.”  
  
The guy was talking to someone from school and someone he didn’t recognize. His hair was bleached so light it was practically white. He had eyeliner smudged around his eyes, and he was wearing a black button-down that stretched against him, showing off a broad body.   
  
Patrick nodded.  
  
“Okay, here’s what you do. We’ll go over there, talk to him a little bit, and then after a minute you should ask him to dance. Dance one song, and then suggest you go upstairs or outside or something where it’s quieter. And then when you get there, ask if you can kiss him. Boom.”  
  
Patrick hadn’t really heard everything Bill said. He was too busy staring at this guy, the first guy he was into since he met Pete. He nodded anyway. He would figure it out.   
  
Bill made his way to the group and Patrick followed, entranced. He finished his beer for liquid courage.  
  
“Hey Justin,” Bill said to his and Patrick’s classmate. “How’s everything?”  
  
“Hey Bill, Patrick. Things are going okay. Creative writing is kicking my ass,” Justin said.  
  
“Oh, same,” Bill replied.  
  
“Yeah right,” Justin laughed. “Everyone knows you’re, like, top of the class in there. Mr. Saporta loves your writing.”   
  
Bill laughed in response, but his eyes were wide. Patrick could feel how tense Bill was.  
  
“Bill works really hard for creative writing,” he said, not sure if he was helping. “It’s what he’s going to college for, so.”  
  
“Oh, that’s cool,” Justin said. Patrick saw Bill relax. “I didn’t realize that. Anyway, this is my friend Mikey and his brother Gerard.”  
  
“Hey,” Bill said.  
  
“Hi,” Patrick said, looking at Gerard, trying to sound cool and disinterested like Bill but probably just sounding drunk.  
  
“Hey,” Gerard said, only to Patrick. He was smiling. His eyes looked bright and sincere under the eyeliner. Next to them, Bill and Justin had started talking about creative writing, and Mikey was listening intently to their conversation.   
  
“Is this your first of Ryan’s parties?” Patrick asked.  
  
“Yeah, we’re visiting Justin for the weekend and he brought us here. Cool vibe,” Gerard replied.  
  
“Yeah, it’s always really fun here.”  
  
“You come to these a lot?”  
  
“Yep. Ryan, the host, he’s one of my good friends.”  
  
“That must make you a VIP or something.”  
  
“Yeah, or something.” Were they flirting? Is that what this was? Patrick had not expected it to be this easy to capture Gerard’s attention. God, he felt drunk. But he also really liked what was standing in front of him. He told himself to get a grip.   
  
“Hey, do you want to show me where the alcohol is? I need another round,” Gerard said. Patrick looked at Bill, who smiled at him. He looked back at Gerard and nodded.  
  
“Cool,” Gerard said, a small smile playing on his lips. “Lead the way.”  
  
Patrick pushed through the hallway toward the kitchen, keenly aware of Gerard’s hand on his shoulder. Patrick wanted this to happen. He wanted to be able to tell Pete that he had hooked up with someone else. He just had no clue how to get from the kitchen to, say, a bedroom.  
  
Once they got to the kitchen, Patrick asked, “What’s your poison?” Gerard chuckled, and Patrick wanted to smack himself for using such a cliché.  
  
“I’ll just grab a beer,” Gerard replied.  
  
“I’ll get it,” Patrick said, grabbing one for Gerard and one for himself from the fridge. Maybe one more beer would make him suave.  
  
“So Justin says these parties are mainstays in town,” Gerard said, taking a sip of his beer. “They seem pretty huge. They’ve never gotten busted?”  
  
“No,” Patrick answered, trying not to drink too much of his beer at once. “Which is weird, I guess, but we’ve never had a problem. They get bigger and bigger every month. I wouldn’t be surprised if off-duty police officers are at this party right now.”  
  
Gerard laughed. “That’s funny,” he said. Patrick grinned. He hadn’t meant it to be funny, but whatever worked. “You go to school with Justin?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Senior?”  
  
“Mhm.”  
  
“Are you excited for college?”  
  
“I guess. I haven’t heard back from any schools yet.”  
  
“Do you know where you want to go?”  
  
Patrick shrugged. He’d thought about what Pete said about studying music, and he really liked that idea. He had the grades to get into University of Chicago and had applied there on a whim, but he thought it sounded douchey to say out loud.  
  
“Probably somewhere in the area,” he said.  
  
“Good idea. College parties aren’t going to have anything on this.”  
  
“Are you in college?”  
  
“Sometimes. I take time off when I want to work on music. My brother and I are trying to start a band.”  
  
“Oh, the guy I’m dating is in a band,” Patrick said before he could catch himself. He couldn’t believe that he brought Pete up to someone he was trying to hook up with. What was wrong with him? He drank more of his beer.  
  
“You’re dating someone?” Gerard asked, frowning.  
  
“Uh, not really. I mean I am, but it’s not serious. It’s not exclusive.”  
  
“Wow. I can’t believe someone’s dating you and they don’t have you locked down.”  
  
“Oh. Um. Thanks.”  
  
“No sweat.” Gerard took another drink and looked at the floor. “You’re funny. And really cute. If I lived around here, I’d try to lock you down.”  
  
Patrick’s heart beat fast. He tried to focus more on how excited he was that this guy was into him than how sad he was that some random guy was showing more initiative than Pete. Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about Pete.  
  
“You’re cute too. And funny.”  
  
Greard looked up at Patrick and smiled. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Patrick smiled. Fuck, this guy was hot. And he was staring straight into Patrick’s eyes in a way that made his knees weak. He wanted this so bad.  
  
“I need a cigarette. Wanna come with?” Gerard asked.   
  
Patrick nodded. Gerard downed his beer and Patrick followed suit. Then Gerard put his can on the counter and leaned in close to Patrick, crowding him against the fridge. Patrick could smell his cologne. It was different than Pete’s, but it still smelled so good. Patrick closed his eyes. His vision was starting to swim again.  
  
“Are there less people in the front yard or the back yard?” Gerard whispered. Patrick gulped.  
  
“Back yard,” Patrick responded.  
  
“Lead the way,” Gerard said, stepping away from Patrick.  
  
Patrick took Gerard’s hand and walked with him to the back door of the house. He made sure to go through the most crowded rooms so a lot of people could see him with Gerard. He knew people at this party knew Pete. He hoped people would report back to him, tell him that the guy he was dating was stumbling around with a mystery guy.  
  
When they got outside, Patrick led Gerard to a big tree that was in the yard, away from the small crowd smoking cigarettes around the back door. He wondered where Brendon and Ryan were. He wondered where Bill was. He wondered where Pete was right now. Was he finished with his show? Who was he with? What was he telling the lucky person who got to be part of his life tonight?  
  
“Do you smoke?” Gerard asked, pulling Patrick out of his thoughts.   
  
Patrick shook his head. God, he felt dizzy. He leaned against the trunk of the tree. “My friend Bill used to smoke. Or maybe he still does, I’m not sure. He has a hard time quitting. Which is why I won’t smoke.”  
  
“Good plan,” Gerard said, lighting a cigarette. “Don’t get hooked.”  
  
“Pete doesn’t smoke. Although I think he used to,” Patrick continued. He shouldn’t have brought Pete up again, but he felt like he didn’t have control of his brain anymore. He was past the point of controlling what he said.  
  
“Pete, huh?” Gerard said. He took a long drag of his cigarette. “Where is this guy tonight?”  
  
“Playing in Chicago. His band is really taking off.”  
  
“So he’s not at this party?”  
  
“Nope. I’m at this party, but he isn’t.”  
  
“Right. You’re here, and I’m here, and no one is going to beat me up if we make out.”  
  
That signaled a memory of Bill’s instructions for hooking up. “Can I kiss you?” Patrick asked.  
  
Gerard laughed and dropped his cigarette. He stomped it out and said, “Yeah. I mean, I was thinking that _I_ could kiss _you_.”  
  
Patrick nodded. That was probably a better plan. He felt glued to this tree. If he moved, he would trip or throw up or do something equally embarrassing.  
  
Gerard leaned down to Patrick. Patrick’s breath shook. Gerard looked so different than Pete. He was blond, taller, broad but not built. Patrick wondered what he looked like under that button down. He wondered if people could see them right now.  
  
When Gerard kissed him, all his thoughts went out the window. He held Gerard’s face in his hands and kissed back, hard and desperate. Patrick wanted this. He didn’t know if he wanted it because he wanted it or because it would send Pete a message, but that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that this guy was a _good_ kisser. His lips were full and he knew what he wanted, slipping his tongue into Patrick’s mouth almost immediately. Patrick ran his tongue along Gerard’s. Gerard tasted like cigarettes, but Patrick didn’t mind because it was so different from Pete.   
  
Gerard pressed his body closer to Patrick’s and slipped his hands under Patrick’s shirt. He pressed his fingers into the skin on Patrick’s lower back. It made Patrick moan. God, he wanted to blow this guy. He would fuck this guy if he let him. Gerard was so confident, so calculated in a way that Pete wasn’t, that Patrick liked.  
  
Gerard pulled away and kissed Patrick’s jaw. Patrick closed his eyes and whimpered. He knew he was melting into Gerard’s hands, and he didn’t care.   
  
“Mmm,” Gerard hummed against Patrick’s jaw. “I want to make you forget about this guy. I want you to remember me next time you’re with him.”  
  
Patrick’s eyes shot open. He stiffened, but Gerard didn’t seem to notice. He kept mouthing at Patrick’s neck. Patrick suddenly felt incredibly drunk, like all of the beers he had pounded in the last hour were catching up to him right this second. His vision was totally fucked, and his stomach was turning. It was actually turning really quickly.  
  
“Gerard,” Patrick whispered, closing his eyes again just to make the world stop spinning.  
  
“Yeah,” Gerard whispered back, not moving from Patrick’s neck.  
  
“No, Gerard,” Patrick said more firmly. Gerard pulled away and frowned.  
  
“You okay?” Gerard asked. “You look pale.”  
  
“Give me a minute,” Patrick said, pushing away from Gerard. He felt like he needed fresh air even though he was outside. “Just wait here.”  
  
Patrick made his way to the back door and opened it without tripping or needing help only because he had been at Ryan’s so often. Which was also the reason he got up the stairs and into the small half-bathroom at the end of the hall that no one remembered and no one used.   
  
He threw up the millisecond he knelt in front of the toilet.  
  
He kept vomiting. First it was beer, then it was the pizza he had eaten for dinner. He threw up so much that he started crying. And when he was done throwing up, he kept crying. He flushed the toilet, but he stayed where he was, crouched in front of it, and cried for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Why couldn’t he just have one night? One night without thinking about Pete, without wishing Pete were with him, even as he was making out with someone else. Was this always how it was going to be? Was he stuck with the memory of Pete for the rest of his life? Why did he feel like he was going through a breakup when he knew he would see Pete within the next few days? Why did he feel so far away from the person he cared about so much?  
  
Was this what love felt like? If it was, then Patrick wanted a fucking refund on growing up.  
  
He stood up after a little while. He was definitely still drunk, and he was definitely still upset. Suddenly, the music in the house was too loud. He didn’t want to be around Gerard. He didn’t want to be in a crowd. He didn’t want to be at this party, pretending to have a great time.  
  
He washed his face and washed his mouth out. He made his way downstairs and into the living room, where Bill was thankfully in the exact place Patrick had left him.  
  
“Hey,” Patrick said to Bill, interrupting the conversation and not feeling bad about it at all. “Can I talk to you a sec?”  
  
“Yeah,” Bill said, looking immediately concerned. “Where’s Gerard?”  
  
“Smoke break. Can I talk to you?”  
  
Bill stepped away from the group he was talking to. “What’s up?”  
  
“How drunk are you?”  
  
“I’ve had one and a half vodka sprites. So not drunk. Why?”  
  
“Can you take me home?”  
  
“Patrick, did something happen?”  
  
“No, I just don’t want to be here. I don’t feel good. Can you just take me home?”  
  
Bill furrowed his brow, but he nodded. “Yeah. Wanna stay over at my place? My parents are gone.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Bill quickly turned back to the group, said his goodbyes, and took Patrick by the hand and led him out to his car. Patrick gave Bill his keys and slid into the passenger seat.  
  
“Are you sure nothing happened?” Bill said as he drove.  
  
“Yeah. I just got too drunk.”  
  
“Are you absolutely sure? You seem sad.”  
  
“I… Gerard didn’t do anything.”  
  
They were silent the rest of the ride to Bill’s house. He cried a little more in the car, but thankfully Bill didn’t say anything.  
  
When they got to Bill’s, Bill helped Patrick onto the couch in his basement and got him some water and saltine crackers. “Eat those slowly,” he said. Patrick nodded.  
  
Bill turned on the TV and sat on the floor by the couch. Friends was on. Patrick closed his eyes and listened to the sitcom laugh track, trying to remember how to feel good.   
  
“Patrick,” Bill said.  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“I don’t like it when people make you cry. Even people you’re into, even people you’re dating.”  
  
Patrick didn’t respond. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to cry.   
  
He heard Bill on the phone with Brendon, telling Brendon to come to Bill’s as soon as he was sober enough to drive. Then Bill said to Patrick, “Brendon’s getting an Uber over here. He’ll be here soon.”  
  
“Cool,” Patrick said. He felt a little better knowing that the three of them would be together. Just the way he liked it.  
  
He was asleep before Brendon got there.


	15. January: Brendon

In the three weeks since Brendon and Ryan first kissed, they had made out a total of four times.  
  
It was never planned, really. Sure, Brendon hoped every time he saw Ryan that they would get a chance to be alone together. But they never talked about it. They would be working on their music theory project, Ryan bent over Brendon’s guitar, hair in his face, and Brendon’s mouth would water. And then Ryan would look up at Brendon, and his expression would shift just a little, and they would pounce on each other. Once, Ryan had taken Brendon to an empty bedroom during one of his parties, closed the door, and pushed Brendon up against it, kissing him desperately for a few minutes. After they had pulled apart, Ryan had smiled and said, “I couldn’t get through the night without you.” Brendon had used that moment as masturbation fodder ever since.  
  
He didn’t think he was _cheating_ on Sarah. He hadn’t asked her to be his girlfriend, and she hadn’t pressured him for anything more serious. Sure, they were going on dates and posting pictures of each other, but there was an unspoken agreement that they weren’t taking any more steps. Which didn’t stop Brendon’s stomach from turning whenever Sarah talked about prom or where they would go on dates in college.  
  
He definitely wasn’t thinking about Sarah right now. How could he, with Ryan so eager underneath him, the bedroom door closed, and no chance Brendon’s parents would be home from work for another two hours? Bill and Patrick were coming over in a couple of hours, but that felt so far away. Kissing Ryan felt so right, like he could spend the rest of his life doing it. He made these little noises that drove Brendon crazy, and the things he could do with his mouth were unbelievable. Brendon had never kissed anyone like this, so hungry every time, so wanting.   
  
“God,” Ryan breathed as he pulled away from Brendon, keeping his fingers hooked in Brendon’s belt loops. “How are we ever gonna get a second song written?”  
  
Brendon laughed. “We have a long time to worry about that.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ryan responded. He kissed Brendon once more and pulled away again, looking concerned.  
  
“Everything okay?” Brendon asked.  
  
“Sure, yeah. I just… wanted to tell you something.”  
  
“What’s up?” Brendon asked, trying to ignore the fact that his hard-on was disappearing.  
  
“I found out yesterday I got into UNLV. I applied Early Action. And… I’m gonna go. So I’m moving back to Vegas this summer. I just thought you should know.”  
  
Brendon didn’t know how to feel. He was caught between being heartbroken and elated. “Well, I applied to UNLV too,” he said. “So if I get in, I’ll go too.”  
  
“Are you serious?” Ryan asked, his eyes wide.  
  
Brendon looked down at Ryan. Was he serious? He didn’t know. But Ryan looked so sweet underneath him, head on Brendon’s pillow, hands still on Brendon’s waist. And he knew wanted to say to Ryan in this moment. He knew how he wanted to make Ryan feel. Wasn’t that enough?  
  
“Yeah,” he replied. “Of course I’m serious.”  
  
Ryan smiled and pulled Brendon back to him. He kissed Brendon hard, and Brendon kissed back, sensing there was suddenly something more between them than just desperation, something bigger than just the need to be on each other all the time. Ryan bit Brendon’s lip and Brendon groaned, pressing his hips into Ryan’s. Ryan gasped and pulled away from Brendon, just enough that they weren’t kissing, but still close enough that Brendon could feel Ryan’s breath against his face when Ryan whispered, “Do you want to… try something else?”  
  
Brendon shivered involuntarily. He knew, deep down, that this was the natural course of events. He couldn’t just make out with Ryan and then jack off forever. But he was still terrified. This was completely new territory for him. He wasn’t used to being out of his depth.   
  
“You okay?” Ryan asked, running his thumb along Brendon’s cheekbone. “You look like a deer in headlights. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”  
  
“No,” Brendon heard himself say. “I want to.”  
  
Ryan smiled, his eyes narrow. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting up and Brendon was in his lap, still straddling his hips. He held Brendon’s neck and kissed him fiercely, moaning into the kiss almost immediately. Brendon kissed back clumsily, his hands finding Ryan’s sides. Brendon was instantly aware of a shift in dynamic. Ryan was almost always the more submissive one, ready to let Brendon take the lead, more interested in being kissed than doing the actual kissing. But this was different. Ryan was kissing Brendon hard, pulling at the hem of his shirt, nipping at his lips. It was suddenly very clear that Ryan was planning on making the decisions here. Which was honestly fine by Brendon. He closed his eyes and melted into Ryan’s hands, letting Ryan push him so that he was laying down and Ryan was laying on top of him, running his fingers through Ryan’s hair while Ryan pushed Brendon’s shirt up his chest.  
  
“Off,” Ryan whined against Brendon’s lips, tugging Brendon’s shirt.  
  
“You first,” Brendon responded, partially because he wanted to see Ryan without a shirt more than he could explain, and partially because he was too nervous to take his own off.  
  
Ryan smirked and sat up, straddling Brendon’s legs, his erection so obvious through his skinny jeans. He pulled his shirt over his shoulders and tossed it onto the bed next to Brendon. “Your turn,” he said coyly.  
  
“Wait,” Brendon said, breathless, taking in all of the skin that was in front of him. Ryan was so skinny, his hip bones sticking out just a little over the waistline of his jeans, his ribs visible. But he didn’t look like he was starving. He looked… good. Hot. Brendon had never looked at another guy like this. He had never wanted to touch another boy’s chest the way he was touching Ryan’s, running his fingers down his sternum to his torso. He’d never craved the skin-on-skin contact he was craving now. He’d never wanted anyone, _anyone_ , to show him what to do, to guide him, the way he wanted Ryan to.  
  
“Hey,” Ryan whispered, catching Brendon’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “You good?”  
  
“So good,” Brendon answered.  
  
“Good,” Ryan said, kissing Brendon’s knuckles and letting go of his hand. “So. It’s still your turn.”  
  
Brendon smiled. He pulled his shirt off quickly so he didn’t have time to psych himself out. The heat was on in his house, but he still felt goosebumps on his chest and arms when he threw the shirt off of his bed and saw Ryan looking down at him. Ryan’s eyes were wide and dark, and his mouth was open just a little bit. He placed his hand on Brendon’s chest and spread his fingers out as far as they would go.  
  
“Are _you_ good?” Brendon asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Ryan replied. “It’s just… I just realized how long I’ve wanted to do this.”  
  
Brendon smiled and pushed himself up so he could kiss Ryan. Ryan kissed Brendon hard, holding onto Brendon’s shoulders, fingers pressing into Brendon’s skin. Ryan pulled away to bite at Brendon’s neck. Brendon fell back onto the bed and Ryan followed, kissing a line from Brendon’s jaw to his collarbone, where he sucked at Brendon’s skin. Brendon groaned. He knew it would leave a mark, but he didn’t care. He kind of liked it. He bucked his hips against Ryan.   
  
“Can I try something?” Ryan asked, looking up at Brendon. Brendon had no clue what Ryan was going to try, but he figured he would like whatever it was. He nodded.   
  
Ryan pushed himself off of Brendon and unzipped Brendon’s jeans. Brendon tried not to freak out. He reminded himself that this was not the first person to see his dick, not the first person to touch it, not by a long shot. He reminded himself he was just messing around with Ryan. This didn’t mean anything _serious_. But when Ryan pulled his jeans and boxers down, when Ryan licked his lips, when Ryan wrapped his hand around the base of Brendon’s dick, Brendon’s heart pounded in a way that he didn’t quite understand.  
  
But when Ryan started working Brendon, all those thoughts went out the window. Fuck, Ryan was good at this. Better than any of the girls he had been with. Brendon tried not to think about how Ryan was different than those girls, how his hands were a little bigger and rougher and the noises he was making were huskier. Instead, he just thought about the fact that _Ryan_ was giving him a hand job. One of the best he had ever gotten. “God,” he breathed, so quietly he didn’t know if Ryan had heard it. Ryan started working him faster. “God,” he moaned, loud enough that he knew Ryan heard. “ _God_ , Ryan.” He squeezed his eyes shut so he could focus on the feeling, and he heard Ryan laugh before gripping him just a little harder. He could feel an orgasm coming on, pooling in his stomach. He willed himself not to come, not to give Ryan a reason to stop touching him. He willed himself to keep feeling like this, to hold onto this moment that felt good and real and important for so many reasons.   
  
But he was just a seventeen year old kid, and he hadn’t ever been this turned on before, so he came quickly, bucking into Ryan’s hand, gripping Ryan’s shirt, Ryan’s name in his mouth. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He looked at Ryan, who was shoving his jeans down and grabbing his own dick.  
  
“Hey,” Brendon said. “Hey, I can –“  
  
“No time,” Ryan said, kneeling over Brendon and working himself. Brendon could feel himself getting hard again. “Just kiss me.”  
  
Before Brendon could answer him, Ryan leaned down and pushed his mouth against Brendon, wet and messy. Brendon carded his hands through Ryan’s hair and licked into his mouth desperately. He could feel Ryan jacking off against him, and he wanted to feel Ryan come more than he could articulate.   
  
He got his wish after a few seconds. Ryan bucked against him and moaned into his mouth, biting down on his lip as he came. Brendon felt Ryan’s come on his stomach. He was shocked at how hot he found it, how much he wanted Ryan to come on him again.  
  
Ryan pulled away from Brendon and laughed. “That was a good time,” he said, reaching for Brendon’s discarded shirt. “Can I use this?”  
  
Brendon nodded. Ryan used the shirt to clean Brendon up, something that Brendon found surprisingly tender, like Ryan was taking care of him.  
  
“You can just throw it on the floor,” Brendon said. “I’ll take care of it.”  
  
“Cool,” Ryan said, discarding the shirt and pulling his jeans up. “That was really fun.”  
  
“Yeah. We should do it again,” Brendon replied, taking Ryan’s hint and pulling up his own jeans and sitting up. “You should, I don’t know, maybe stay over at some point or something.”  
  
Ryan beamed. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of weird I haven’t stayed over yet.”  
  
“Kind of,” Brendon laughed.   
  
“I should get going soon. My dad’s coming home today and I want to tell him about Vegas.”  
  
“Oh, sure,” Brendon replied, ignoring that he felt kind of let down. He knew he and Ryan had separate plans tonight, but it felt weird to do this big thing and then… say bye to Ryan.   
  
“You won’t miss me too much?” Ryan asked, obviously flirting. He pulled his shirt back on and straddled Brendon’s hips again.   
  
Brendon wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist. “Not too much.”  
  
“Well, I’ll miss you,” Ryan whispered, kissing Brendon lightly. He looked down at Brendon’s chest and smiled. “At least you have a memento,” he said, tapping the hickey on Brendon’s collar bone.  
  
After Ryan left, and before Bill and Patrick came over, Brendon spent a long time in front of his mirror, staring at the hickey, pressing into it with his fingertips. He wouldn’t be able to take his shirt off around Sarah as long as it was there. He had the thought that maybe that’s what Ryan had wanted. Which didn’t bother Brendon as much as it probably should have.  
  
Later that night, he could barely focus on the movie that he was watching with Bill and Patrick. He was too preoccupied, thinking about the way Ryan looked that afternoon, the way he tasted, how it felt to have Ryan’s hands on him, on his _dick_. He thought of the hickey he was hiding under his tee shirt. He thought about what it meant to be hooking up with Ryan, to want more, to never be satisfied with the time they spent together. Was this a crush? Was it love? Was it hormones?   
  
He looked at Patrick and Bill, spread out on the couch. He realized that these were the people that could help him. Suddenly, it seemed so strange that he hadn’t said anything to them. Ryan had literally jacked him off four hours ago and Bill and Patrick had no clue.   
  
“Guys,” Brendon said. Patrick and Bill looked over at him.  
  
“I’ve been hooking up with Ryan,” he said. “We’ve been messing around for like a month. It’s not a big deal. I just wanted you to know.”  
  
“I knew it,” Bill said, grinning.  
  
“Bill,” Patrick snapped.  
  
“Sorry,” Bill answered in a tone that suggested that he was not sorry at all. Then he softened. “I’m glad you told us, dude. It doesn’t change anything about you or how we feel about you.”  
  
“Do you need anything or want anything from us?” Patrick asked.   
  
“I don’t think so,” Brendon said. “Maybe keep it quiet for now? It feels good to say out loud, but just to you guys.”  
  
“Definitely,” Patrick said. “You move at your own pace and we’ll follow your lead.”  
  
“If you want sex tips, come to me. I’ve got plenty,” Bill said.  
  
“Thanks guys,” Brendon said, his heart swelling.  
  
“Of course. We’re always gonna be in your corner. We’re here if you need anything,” Bill said.  
  
“We’re a unit, no matter what,” Patrick added.  
  
Brendon smiled and turned his attention back to the movie. That wasn’t so bad. It was easy. He pressed his fingers against his collarbone, where he knew the hickey was. He hoped it would take a long time to fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are enjoying it so far! Hopefully it won't take so long for me to update in the future.
> 
> I'm thinking about adding a song to every chapter, like the song I was listening to when I wrote it or the song that inspired the chapter. Would y'all be into that? This chapter it was Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) by The 1975.


	16. January: William

Since the new semester had started, Creative Writing was not as fun as it used to be.   
  
It started when Justin had made that weird comment at Ryan’s party about William being Gabe’s favorite student. It had shocked William to hear anyone say something like that. William was silent in Gabe’s class, and Gabe never called on him. He had talked to Justin about it after Patrick had gone off with Justin’s friend. Justin had apologized to William. No one was mad about it, Justin had said, but everyone knew that William had the highest grade in the class. And Justin explained that everyone noticed that Mr. Saporta was always staring at William in class, waiting for him to say something.  
  
Gabe hadn’t made it any easier since they’d been back at school. He’d started complimenting William’s writing to the class, using his writing exercises as examples of excellent narrative devices and character descriptions. Add to that the fact that Gabe was still keeping William after class at least once a week, and William was sure that everyone had theories about what was going on between them.  
  
He hadn’t told Gabe about the conversation he’d had with Justin. He was worried about what it would do to their relationship. Gabe was always jumpy about the possibility of anyone at school or in town getting ideas about them, to the point that he was only his normal, relaxed self when they were inside of his apartment or when they went on dates in Chicago, where Gabe was sure no one would see them. William told himself that it was really just a few more months before they could be a normal couple and this whole chapter could be behind them. Besides, if William was going to tell Gabe anything important, it was going to be how much he loved Gabe.  
  
Very little had occupied William’s mind for the last month. He still hadn’t told Gabe how he felt. He originally thought he would tell him during winter break, but they’d gotten in a lot of spats about how they were going to spend New Year’s Eve. By the time they’d finally decided to just spend New Year’s Eve day together and do their own thing at night, William had totally lost his nerve. But he needed to find it soon. He couldn’t keep holding this in anymore.  
  
“Hey, you okay?” Gabe asked William, nudging him with his foot.   
  
“Yeah,” William answered, snapping out of his train of thought. He turned his attention back to the movie he and Gabe were watching.  
  
“You looked like you were really zoned out.”  
  
“I was. Sorry, just thinking about school stuff.”  
  
“No big,” Gabe replied, looking out the window. “Jesus, the snow is really coming down. I’m cold. Give me that blanket.”  
  
William gripped Gabe’s blanket, which was wrapped around his legs and torso. “No way, it’s fucking freezing. Get your own blanket.”  
  
“Hey, my house, my rules. We have to at least share,” Gabe said, a smirk forming on his lips. He pounced onto William and tried to pull the blanket off of him.  
  
“Stop being so dramatic,” William said, thrashing underneath Gabe to try to throw him off his balance. “You have another blanket on your bed, and I’m _comfortable_ \- “  
  
Gabe cut him off by taking William’s face in his hands and kissing him hard. William melted into the kiss, throwing his arms around Gabe, wishing it were possible for people to make out forever, wishing it were possible for him and Gabe to stay in Gabe’s apartment for the rest of winter.  
  
“You know I get bitchy when I get cold,” Gabe said when they broke apart. “You’re bringing this upon yourself.”  
  
William laughed as Gabe climbed off of him and shoved himself under the blanket next to him. “Yeah, your attitude really does deteriorate when you’re cold.”  
  
“Mm, good thing you’re so warm,” Gabe responded, curling into William’s side.   
  
They sat in silence for a minute, cuddled together. William smiled. What a perfect afternoon. He wanted to tell Gabe that he loved him so badly. Instead, he asked, “Do you think about me in class?”  
  
“Well, yeah, you’re right in front of my face for an hour.”  
  
“No, I don’t mean like that. I mean, do you _think_ about me? Like about hooking up with me or going on dates or whatever. Like, sometimes when I’m in class I think about jokes you’ve told me or whatever restaurant we went to most recently.”  
  
Gabe frowned and he shifted away from William, just a little bit, but enough for William to notice. “No,” he said. “All I’m thinking about in class is the work I’m doing.”  
  
William’s stomach flipped. He didn’t like Gabe’s answer, but he couldn’t figure out why. “You _never_ think about it? You never look at me and realize that you know my favorite movies, or what food I won’t eat, or that I hate being cold? That you know stuff nobody else in the room knows about me?”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Gabe answered firmly. “I don’t. And you shouldn’t either. You’re in class, you should be thinking about class.”  
  
“Yeah, but come on. It kind of feels good, right? To know all that stuff? To have a secret?”  
  
“No, Will, it really doesn’t!” Gabe said, raising his voice and moving completely away from William. “Why would that feel good to me? To know that I have all of this intimate knowledge about a _student_? That feels horrible, honestly.”  
  
William was shocked and more than a little bit pissed. “Oh, it’s horrible to date me?”  
  
“That is not what I said, and that’s not what I meant. I obviously really love dating you. But that doesn’t mean the situation we’re in doesn’t absolutely suck! That doesn’t mean that any of this is fun for me. The fact is that we met at the wrong time, and we made the decision together to make it work until it turned into the right time. And that’s great! I’m so happy I’m dating you. But for my own sanity, I try really hard to separate Will the student from Will the boyfriend.”  
  
William was seething. How could Gabe be in a sucky situation and still be happy they were together? Gabe had said things like this here and there since New Year’s Eve, but this was the first big blowup he had about it. William felt cheated. He felt hurt. He felt like he had no control over this conversation. So he decided to get some control back.  
  
“Well, you’re not doing such a good job,” he said, “because everyone in class keeps calling me the teacher’s pet.”  
  
Gabe stared at William. “What are you talking about?” he said slowly.  
  
“Yeah,” William replied, feeling bad about how much he enjoyed the look of discomfort on Gabe’s face. “Justin told me earlier this month, people have been talking about it for a while. And the idea’s only spread since you’ve been talking about my stories in class.”  
  
Gabe shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. “What did you say to Justin when he said this to you?”  
  
“That I was going to college for fiction. He backed off. But it wasn’t the last time I’ve heard it.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t you tell me about this?” Gabe asked, his voice low. “It is so… _irresponsible_ to keep this information from me, when you know what we’re up against, you know the stakes here-“  
  
“Calm down,” William said. Why did he suddenly feel like he was losing control again? “This isn’t the first time I’ve been called a teacher’s pet. I happen to be the darling of the English department. It’s not a big deal.”  
  
“But this is different! And you know that!” Gabe said.   
  
“Well I guess it’s not that different if you’re just my teacher when we’re in class!” William shot back. “If you don’t think of me as your boyfriend for an hour every day because I’m just ‘Will the student,’ then it’s fine! I’m just a great writer, I guess!”  
  
Gabe took a deep breath. “Stop doing that,” he said, sounding totally calm, looking at his lap instead of at William. “Stop getting upset about the fact that I think about things other than blowing you. You are a very important part of my life, but so is my _job_. So are my _friends_. I’m trying to balance all of this shit for the next five months for both of us. Which is really hard because sometimes it seems like you don’t consider the very real dangers we’re up against.”  
  
“Yeah, I do,” William responded, offended. “Of course I do. But being with you is more important than the dangers we’re up against.”  
  
“That’s the thing, it’s not.” Gabe looked at William, eyes bright. “Being together is not more important than these dangers, because if something happens, we can’t be together. We can’t, as much as we want to. And in addition to not being together, you could get in trouble. Real trouble. I could get in trouble. I could lose my job. You could miss out on college. Any number of things could happen. And I can’t-“ Gabe paused and took William’s hand before finishing, “I can’t lose my job or have my life upended _and_ lose you. I couldn’t take it. You’re too important to me.”  
  
William smiled. He felt warm. He had known, deep down, that Gabe’s anger was really just stress, that they really were going to be okay. And in this moment of quiet, of vulnerability, he felt the love he had for Gabe bubble until it spilled out of him, and the words tumbled from his mouth before he really had a choice in the matter.  
  
“I love you, Gabe,” he said, squeezing Gabe’s hand a little too hard.  
  
Gabe smiled and inched closer to him. “That’s great, Will,” he whispered. “That’s great, because I love you too.”  
  
Gabe kissed William hard, climbing into his lap again, slipping his hands under William’s shirt. William licked into Gabe’s mouth eagerly, carding his hands through Gabe’s hair, drinking in this moment as much as he could. This felt good, this felt _adult_ , real, perfect.   
  
“Will,” Gabe whispered against William’s mouth. “Hold on.”  
  
Gabe pulled away. William could feel himself pouting, but he didn’t care. What was worth interrupting this moment?  
  
“I have condoms,” Gabe said, barely audible, like he was afraid someone else would hear. “Do you want to? We can, if you want to.”  
  
“Oh,” William said, swallowing hard. That was definitely worth interrupting the moment. “Yeah, of course I want to.”  
  
Gabe smiled the cheeky smile that had been plastered across his face the night they met. He climbed off of William, took his hand, and led him to the bed. William kicked off his shoes while Gabe pulled his shirt off and rooted through the drawer in his nightstand.   
  
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Gabe asked, climbing into bed next to William, a bottle of lube and box of condoms in his hand. William nodded, pulling his own shirt off. He had thought about this for months, since the first time they met. He wasn’t totally sure why they even waited so long.   
  
Gabe smiled, softer this time, and he leaned down to William’s mouth to kiss him slowly, gently. “Will,” he whispered when they pulled apart. “My whole heart.”  
  
William took Gabe’s face in his hands and kissed him in response. There was no way he could put into words how he felt right now, so full of love, so lucky, so happy, so he didn’t even try. He just kissed Gabe as hard as he could. Gabe responded by kissing back, wet and hungry, straddling William’s legs and pressing his chest to William’s.  
  
William was hard almost immediately, his body ultrasensitive to every touch. Gabe ran his hands down William’s sides, his fingers pressing into William’s hips. William moaned quietly, rolling his hips against Gabe’s, feeling that Gabe was hard too. William wrapped his arms around Gabe’s waist and tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He bucked against Gabe again, doing everything he could to be as close to Gabe as possible.  
  
“You ready?” Gabe asked against William’s mouth.   
  
William pulled away just enough to whimper a “yes.” Gabe smiled and began to unhook William’s jeans. William returned the favor. They both shimmied out of their jeans quickly. William felt warm, flushed. A huge departure from how cold he was just a few minutes ago.  
  
Gabe grabbed the bottle. “Turn around,” he said, his voice so quiet William almost missed it. William’s mouth went dry as he flipped over, so that his stomach (and his dick, which was aching it was so hard) were pressed against Gabe’s sheets.  
  
William closed his eyes. He was a little nervous- it really had been at least six months since he’d had sex, and while he wasn’t inexperienced, he knew that Gabe had probably had his fair share of partners. He didn’t know whether he stacked up. He felt rather than saw Gabe kiss his shoulder, his lips barely brushing against William’s skin. He moaned involuntarily. He heard Gabe chuckle.  
  
A second later, he felt Gabe’s finger, cold and slick with lube, against him. “This okay?” Gabe asked.  
  
“Of course,” William groaned, impatient. He pushed against Gabe’s finger just as Gabe pushed into William. The result was that Gabe pushed deep into him, and it felt so overwhelming and so fucking good all at once. William groaned again, already balling Gabe’s sheets in his hands.  
  
Gabe held William’s waist with his free hand and worked William slowly, kissing William’s back every now and then. After a few seconds he added another finger, and William moaned deeply, grinding against Gabe’s hand, begging for more. It hurt just a little, but mostly it felt _good_ , and William didn’t want to stop feeling it, didn’t want this to end.  
  
“You like that?” Gabe asked, and William could hear the smirk on his face.   
  
“Yes, Jesus, please don’t stop.”  
  
“I’m gonna have to stop so I can put this condom on.”  
  
“God, fine, please hurry.”  
  
William hated the feeling of emptiness he felt when Gabe pulled his fingers out of him. He truly felt like pouting about it. But then he felt Gabe’s dick pressed against him, and he got chills. This was _it._ It was fucking happening.   
  
“Still good?” Gabe asked. “Here.” He pulled William’s waist, and William moved so that he was on all fours. “Okay,” Gabe said, quiet again. “Okay.”  
  
And suddenly, Gabe was inside of William, moving slowly. William felt uncomfortable for a few seconds, and then he got used to it, and it was all he could do to avoid coming immediately. He moaned, pushing his hips toward Gabe, forcing Gabe to go deeper, to give him more.  
  
“Fuck, this feels good,” Gabe grunted, pushing harder into William. “You feel so fucking good.”  
  
William moaned in response. His vision was already getting fuzzy. He was so close to coming, but he didn’t want to just yet. He wanted to keep feeling like this.  
  
“Are you close?” Gabe asked. William heard how labored Gabe’s breathing was and realized that Gabe was close, too.  
  
“Yeah,” he breathed. “So close.”  
  
Gabe reached around William’s waist and started to jack him off. William moaned too loudly at the contact, but he didn’t care. He thrusted wildly against Gabe’s dick, wanting as much as possible before he came.  
  
Which happened almost immediately. William came hard, pushing his hips into Gabe’s, moaning Gabe’s name. He could barely register any thoughts, but he felt Gabe come a few seconds later, bucking hard into William, digging his nails into William’s sides.  
  
William collapsed on the bed as soon as Gabe pulled out. Gabe tossed William an old washcloth so William could clean himself up. He threw the condom away and crawled into bed, curling his body around William’s.  
  
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first fucking night we met,” Gabe said, his head on William’s chest.  
  
“Same here,” William replied, still breathing heavily.  
  
“I love you, Will. So much.”  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
Gabe looked up at William and kissed him, slow and sweet. “It’s gonna be really hard to be in class with you and not think about this,” he laughed.  
  
“Oh, I’m also gonna have a hard time not thinking about how embarrassingly fast I came,” William replied.  
  
“Come on, it’s not a big deal. You haven’t had sex at least since we got together, and neither have I. Plus, I know I’m very irresistible.”  
  
“Oh my god.” William rolled his eyes, but he smiled broadly.   
  
“You know it really is fine though. Next time will be much longer.”  
  
“When is next time?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Gabe said, pulling a blanket around them. “A few minutes?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re young, I’m young, we know how to turn each other on, it should not be that difficult.”  
  
“We’ll see, I guess.”  
  
“We can just keep having sex all day,” Gabe continued. “Just, a lot of sex. Hey, do you think maybe you want to… stay over tonight?”  
  
William stared at Gabe. “Are you serious? That’s the last rule we haven’t touched. You’re sure?”  
  
“Yeah. I wanna be with you. Sleep with you. All that normal stuff. You parents aren’t home this weekend, right? So you can just stay here.”  
  
“Yes. Absolutely.”  
  
Gabe grinned and kissed William hard. They made out desperately, and they did have sex again within a few minutes, and then one more time after they ate Chinese takeout for dinner. But none of it felt as good to William as when Gabe turned the lights off in his apartment, kissed William goodnight, and said “I love you” before William drifted off to sleep.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took so long! I must have rewritten this like five times. But here it is! The song for this chapter is Let's Fall In Love For The Night by FINNEAS.


	17. February: Brendon

No one had better legs than Ryan Ross. Brendon was sure of it. Brendon thought Ryan probably knew it too, which would explain why he always wore jeans so skinny they looked painted on. And most of Ryan’s jeans, like the ones he was wearing today, hung low across his waist. And Ryan’s shirts were often a little too short for his long torso, so Brendon knew that if Ryan raised his arms high enough, his shirt would ride up and Brendon could catch a flash of his hips. Ryan was about to reach into his locker, so Brendon watched him, hoping to get a glimpse of his skin, so pale and taut and –  
  
“Hey, you okay?” Sarah asked, slamming her locker shut. The noise brought Brendon back to reality.  
  
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about Music Theory,” Brendon said, groaning inwardly. It was getting harder and harder to keep his relationship with Ryan outside of school. He knew he was getting a little obsessed, to the point that he’d started walking Sarah to her locker at the end of every day just because he knew Ryan’s locker was near hers. But he really couldn’t help it. He and Ryan had been going at it like rabbits for the last month, and hooking up with Ryan felt better than hooking up with, well, anyone else. Ryan had started staying over most nights when his dad wasn’t in town, including weeknights, which Brendon’s parents didn’t mind- they loved Ryan. Brendon and Ryan would stay up most of the night, bodies tangled together, Ryan showing Brendon what felt good, teaching him that he didn’t have to be scared. Just two nights ago, Brendon had given his first-ever blowjob, and the noises Ryan made, muffled so he didn’t wake Brendon’s parents at 2 am, were still stuck in his brain.  
  
“You two are so invested in Music Theory,” Sarah said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. Brendon knew that Sarah was getting tired of splitting her time with Ryan. He’d often wondered if she knew that something else was going on, but she never said anything, and he never wanted to push the issue. “You have like two months to finish the project. My partner and I haven’t even met.”  
  
“I guess that’s why I’ll get a higher grade than you.”  
  
Sarah smiled and gently hip-checked Brendon. “Don’t be rude. Okay, I have to meet up with Audrey. We’re looking at prom dresses. Do you have any specific colors you like or don’t like?”  
  
“For your dress? Of course not, wear whatever you want. But I’m not wearing a white tux. I refuse to do it.”  
  
“Okay,” Sarah giggled. “I doubt I’ll buy anything this early anyway, but I’ll let you know. Call me later, okay?”  
  
“Of course,” Brendon said, kissing her quickly before she walked off. Then he strode over to Ryan, still shuffling things around in his locker.   
  
“Oh, hey dude,” Ryan said. He lowered his voice and continued, “Don’t think I didn’t see you staring.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Brendon whispered, looking around. “Was it that obvious?”  
  
“Oh yeah. I was thinking you were coming over here to give _me_ a kiss.”  
  
“Jesus,” Brendon said, rolling his eyes. “You’re coming over, right?”  
  
“Yeah, but just for the afternoon. My dad got back in town this morning.”  
  
“So we’re just gonna work on the song?”  
  
Ryan smirked. “Yeah. Strictly business.”  
  
Ryan and Brendon proved themselves wrong about an hour later, when they were making out desperately on Brendon’s bedroom floor. Brendon was sitting with his back against the bed, Ryan in his lap, his shirt tossed somewhere next to them, his tongue down Brendon’s throat.  
  
Brendon pulled away when he absolutely had to get a breath in. He hated being around Ryan and not kissing him. Ryan smiled down at him, his lips wet and red.  
  
“We should get around to the song at some point,” Brendon mused. They really hadn’t worked on the project since they turned in their last assignment at the end of last semester.  
  
“We will,” Ryan said. “But I just want you so bad whenever I get you alone.”  
  
“You should never have kissed me,” Brendon responded playfully. “It ruined our productivity.”  
  
“I’d say the benefits outweigh the drawbacks here,” Ryan said, kissing Brendon again, long and slow. “If it's this good now, think about how good it’s gonna be next year when we don’t have to worry about parents barging in.”  
  
“Next year?” Brendon answered.  
  
“Yeah, when you come to UNLV with me.”  
  
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Brendon answered, suddenly nervous. “I haven’t even gotten in.”  
  
“You’ll get in. Their acceptance rate is super high.”  
  
“Well that’s still a big assumption. You know, to assume I’m gonna go _with_ you.”  
  
“What else am I supposed to assume?” Ryan asked, not unkindly. “I mean, why else would you apply there except to go with me?”  
  
Brendon avoided that question. He had applied on a whim, secretly, at least a month before he and Ryan had kissed. He knew, very deep down, that he _had_ applied to UNLV because he wanted to go to college with Ryan. But just as friends. Just because he really enjoyed Ryan’s company.  
  
“Going with you makes it sound like we’re dating. Like I’m your boyfriend,” he said instead, trying desperately to bury the part of him that really liked that idea.  
  
“It doesn’t have to mean that. We can date and not be boyfriends. We can just be… close.”  
  
“Okay, but we aren’t dating,” Brendon answered hurriedly. There was a difference, wasn’t there, between just hooking up with boys and dating them? Wasn’t there a difference between thinking with his dick and catching feelings?   
  
“Yeah, I know,” Ryan said, sounding a little annoyed as he climbed off of Brendon’s lap. Brendon immediately felt colder without Ryan’s body heat next to him. “But that’s because you’re a little tied up at the moment. When we get to college I’d rather not be confined to your bedroom or whatever closet happens to be open at my parties.”  
  
Brendon wished desperately that Ryan was not saying what he thought Ryan was saying. “I’m confused,” he said. “What exactly do you think it’s going to look like next year?”  
  
“Oh come on, Brendon. I know we’re sneaking around because of Sarah and because you don’t want to come out to everyone at school. That’s fine. In college it’ll be different. No one will have any ideas about you or me. And Sarah won’t be in Las Vegas. We won’t have to hide there. I don’t want to hide there.”  
  
Brendon’s heart pounded. This was exactly what he didn’t want Ryan to say. Why did anything have to change? “You are making a lot of assumptions here.”  
  
“What? How?”  
  
“First, there’s the assumption that Sarah won’t be in the picture next year –“  
  
“Oh, is she coming to Las Vegas?”  
  
Brendon felt sick. He had just said he was going to UNLV to make Ryan feel better, and now Ryan was treating it as gospel. “No, but that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t stay together.”  
  
“Brendon,” Ryan chuckled. “Seriously?”  
  
“And there’s the assumption that I haven’t ‘come out,’ as if there’s anything I need to come out about.”  
  
“Are you kidding?”  
  
“No. I don’t have to come out about anything.”  
  
“Okay,” Ryan said. “I get it if you don’t want to make a big announcement or anything, but like, you’re not straight.”  
  
Brendon’s head was spinning. “Says who?” he asked, feeling petulant, knowing it was a stupid question.  
  
“Uh, says the guy that came in your mouth on Monday?”  
  
“I just think that you’re asking a lot of me,” Brendon said. “Holding hands on campus, going on dates, starting a life _together_ in Vegas, that’s a lot. We’re teenagers. All we do is hook up.”  
  
Ryan, who had been calm until now, shut his eyes and balled his hands into fists. “I’m just really confused here. I thought we had a plan, Brendon. I thought you liked me.”  
  
Brendon bit his lip. They had just been hooking up, hadn’t they? This was just fun, wasn’t it? How did it all of a sudden become so serious? Brendon didn’t think it needed to be a big deal. He didn’t think he had to admit that he liked Ryan. He thought Ryan just knew.   
  
“I like what we’re doing,” he said finally. “I like that what we have is just ours.”   
  
“Fuck, Brendon, come on. I don’t want to hide in your room for the rest of my life. I’m a person, too. I want the fucking Instagram pictures and the dates and the talks about the future. I’m serious about you. I want you to be serious about me.”  
  
“But being serious means having to do a lot of stuff that I don’t…” Brendon didn’t know how to finish his sentence.  
  
“That you don’t want to do,” Ryan finished it for him. He wasn’t exactly right, but Brendon didn’t bother correcting him. The truth was so much more complicated, and Brendon didn’t feel like getting into it.  
  
“Well, okay,” Ryan continued, reaching for his shirt. “Let’s work on this song.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You said it yourself,” Ryan said, not looking at Brendon. “We don’t have a lot of time.”  
  
They wrote in silence for an hour. Brendon barely looked at Ryan. He was too embarrassed and too upset with the way the afternoon had turned out. When Ryan got up to go home, much earlier than he normally left, he mumbled a goodbye that Brendon didn’t return.  
  
Once Ryan left, Brendon laid down on his bed, neglecting his other homework. He liked Ryan, of course he did. And he knew as well as Ryan did that they did way more than just hook up. Brendon thought about all those nights that Ryan stayed over. He thought about all they talked about in between going down on each other. They talked about their plans for adulthood and their dreams for their lives. They talked about feeling out of place even though they were both popular. They told each other all of their secrets, all of their hopes, all of their insecurities. Brendon had never done that with anyone. He thought of being around Ryan like breathing. It felt good, natural, necessary. In these very private moments, when he was alone and didn’t feel like fighting himself, he knew he had it bad for Ryan.   
  
But what did that actually mean? What did it get him? A lot of fucking grief, apparently. He didn’t even know if he wanted to go to UNLV. He didn’t know if he wanted to make it official with Ryan. He would have to tell people he had a boyfriend, and as much as it sounded like it would be okay, Brendon was sure he would have to deal with questions. How come he didn’t come out before? Why did it take him so long? Was he just gay because of his friends? And then he’d have to tell everyone he _wasn’t_ gay, he just happened to have a boyfriend. It just seemed like too much. He had it so good- a popular guy with a solid group of friends, dating a popular girl who was widely known as the life of the party. He’d heard people say they wanted to vote for him and Sarah as Prom King and Queen. Wasn’t that so much easier? Wasn’t that what so many people wanted? That’s what he wanted. He wanted normalcy more than he wanted Ryan.   
  
Suddenly, Brendon realized what he had to do to make everything work out. He realized exactly what he had to do so that Ryan, Sarah, and everyone else would know where he stood. He grabbed his phone.  
  
“Hey,” Sarah said, picking up after the first ring. “You’re calling earlier than I thought you would.”  
  
“Oh yeah, Ryan had to go home. Am I interrupting anything?”  
  
“No, I just got home. I didn’t find anything today. I had to talk Audrey out of this horrible bright teal dress. She was so into it and it looked so bad.”  
  
“Sounds like a successful afternoon.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
  
“So listen,” Brendon said, swallowing hard. He knew he had to push forward with the plan. “I need to talk to you about something.”  
  
“Okay, sure. What’s up?”  
  
“You know how we haven’t been exclusive? And I know we said we didn’t care about who the other person was hooking up with, but I just wanted you to know. I’ve been hooking up with Ryan. A little bit.”  
  
“Oh.” Sarah was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Okay. I mean, you know I don’t care if you like guys. It’s just that you Ryan are really close. So I don’t know how I feel about it.”  
  
“Well that’s what I want to talk to you about.” Brendon shut his eyes. He almost hated that he was doing this, but he knew it was the only way to get things back to normal. “I don’t think we should be open anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend. Officially. Exclusively.”  
  
“For real?” Sarah exclaimed, clearly excited. “Oh my god, yeah, obviously! I mean, I wish you weren’t asking me over the phone –“  
  
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait anymore.”  
  
“That’s totally fine. I’ve been waiting for this for ages! Wow, I can’t believe this. Yes, Brendon. I would love to be your girlfriend.”  
  
“Great. I’m excited.”  
  
“Me too! Oh god, I have to go, my mom wants me to help with dinner. But I’ll talk to you later, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, definitely.”  
  
“Oh, and are you… telling people about you and Ryan? Or about guys generally?”  
  
“Yeah,” Brendon lied, thankful that Sarah took the bait. He knew that she’d tell Audrey about the fact that he and Ryan had been hooking up, and Audrey would tell anyone who would listen. He knew everyone would know he wasn’t straight, and now he didn’t have to be the one to tell people. And he could stop hooking up with Ryan, stop feeling so conflicted all the time. Ryan could stop talking to him about their future. Brendon could go to whatever college he wanted. They could just be friends again. Everything would work out.  
  
“Alright. Talk to you soon. Bye Brendon. Thank you for asking.”  
  
“No problem. Bye, Sarah.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter is Fire For You by Cannons!


	18. February: William

William had been walking on a cloud for the last few weeks. He had never been in a better relationship than this one. Since they’d first had sex, William’s life revolved around Gabe. He spent all day waiting for sixth period, started participating in class just to talk to Gabe, and hung back after class almost every day to “talk about the homework” (which was code for flirting). He was becoming really good at dodging questions from his parents about where he was all weekend and coming up with excuses for not hanging out with his friends. He spent Friday night to Sunday night every weekend tangled up with Gabe, barely moving from bed, reading and fucking and watching movies. William was getting a clearer picture of what his future would look like. He thought about how he would spend the whole summer with Gabe, going to shows and hanging out in Chicago. He thought ahead to the fall, when he would spend the weekends in Gabe’s apartment, talking about his assignments and getting feedback on his writing. Gabe kept cautioning him against it, but William already had one foot in the future, daydreaming constantly about what his life would look like in six months.  
  
His head was so far in the clouds, and his thoughts so far in the future, that it was easy to ignore the whispers and titters that followed him when he walked into Gabe’s class or when he stayed after. It was easy to look past the stares that he was starting to get in the hallways or by his locker. At first he figured it was probably just residual reactions from last week’s giant bomb: that Brendon was, in fact, not straight. People seemed to be fine with the news- William and Patrick hadn’t said anything to Brendon, but everyone had kind of assumed that something was going on between him and Ryan for a little while- and Brendon was taking it in stride. He and Sarah were together exclusively now, and that seemed to be a good shield for Brendon from any heinous comments that the school assholes wanted to make. But after a week, once the rumor mill had slowed down as far as Brendon’s dick was concerned, people were still whispering about William. He didn’t bother figuring out what was going on. Who cared? Nothing could change how good he felt about Gabe, and tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. Everything was gonna be just fine.  
  
“I think Ryan really wants you to be there tomorrow night, Bill,” Brendon said as he, William, and Patrick drove toward William’s house after school. He looked a little on edge.  
  
“You know I can’t,” William replied. “Gabe and I have this big weekend planned.”  
  
“Okay, _I_ really want you to be there.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Things are… weird with me and Ryan right now. He’s kind of mad about Sarah, and he’s being cold.”  
  
“Just don’t go to the party,” Patrick responded. “No one’s forcing you to be there.”  
  
“It’s not that easy. You know how much Sarah likes going, and she and Ryan are still good friends. You’re coming, right?”  
  
“Yeah, and Pete’s coming too. He apparently has some big plans for Valentine’s Day.”  
  
“Oh, maybe he’ll grow a pair of balls as a present to you,” William responded. He was so over the way that Pete treated Patrick, always stringing him along and never giving him what he deserved. All Patrick wanted was a boyfriend, and all Pete wanted was a groupie. But he was getting tired of Patrick too. Couldn’t Patrick see that his relationship with Pete was doomed?  
  
“Give it a rest,” Patrick snapped. “You think your relationship with Gabe is so great even though-“  
  
“ _Patrick_ ,” Brendon said, firmly and too loud.  
  
“What?” William responded, genuinely confused. Patrick parked the car outside of William’s house in silence, and Brendon and Patrick both avoided eye contact with William. “What?” he asked again, more urgently this time.  
  
Brendon took a deep breath and turned around from the front passenger seat so that he could look directly at William. Patrick held on to the steering wheel, still not looking at William. “Okay, listen,” Brendon said. “Full disclosure: We’ve known about this for a few days. We didn’t know how to tell you. But it’s probably time to let you know. Right, Patrick?”  
  
Patrick nodded, still not turning to face William.  
  
“There are… rumors,” Brendon started, clearly uncomfortable. “About you.”  
  
“The teacher’s pet thing? I know,” William answered, hoping against hope that was all that was happening, that the worst case scenario was not about to come to fruition.  
  
“No,” Brendon said. “Well, yes. But more than that. Bill, there are rumors about you and Gabe.”  
  
“What?” William choked out, his whole world crashing around him. He thought he would be sick. “No.”  
  
“Yeah,” Brendon continued. “The teacher’s pet thing sort of picked up steam, and people were making jokes about you two being together, saying you wouldn’t stop staring at each other in class and you were always staying after class and all this shit. It was just jokes, no one believed it or took it seriously. But then, um.”  
  
“Then WHAT?” William roared, needing every detail, trying so hard to find some way that Brendon and Patrick had misunderstood.  
  
“Well, some freshman said that he saw you two really close in Gabe’s classroom a few months ago. Okay, no big deal, freshmen say stupid shit. But then last week, Sheri Wilson started saying she saw you two in Chicago at Hi Volt Café over the weekend. And you were kissing.”  
  
William felt like he had been punched in the stomach and in the face. He and Gabe had gone to Hi Volt a few weekends ago. It was one of their favorite places to go because no one knew about it. Or so they thought.  
  
“How was Sheri… um… at Hi Volt?”  
  
“Her dad lives near there, she goes a lot on weekends. Anyway, Sheri doesn’t usually gossip, and it was the second or third rumor about you two, so people took what she said and ran with it. I mean, some of what people are saying is ridiculous, like that you have sex in the boy’s locker room and that you two are secretly married. But some of it is true, and the overarching idea is true. I don’t know if Gabe knows, but we thought at least you should.”  
  
“Who is talking about this?” William asked.  
  
“Everyone,” Patrick said, looking at William through the rear view mirror. “We get questions at least twice a day.”  
  
“We always say it’s not true,” Brendon assured William.  
  
It was as if the world stopped turning, as if William would just stay stuck in this awful moment for the rest of his life. He saw no way out. He saw no way that this got better.  
  
“Thanks,” he said quickly before grabbing his backpack and stumbling out of the car without saying goodbye. He burst into his house and ran up the stairs to his room without saying anything to his parents. He closed the door and crumbled onto the floor, lying in the fetal position, willing himself not to fucking cry over this.  
  
He was weak-willed. He sobbed onto the floor, his body shaking. What was he supposed to do? Once Gabe found out, everything would be different. It had been so easy for so long, and now all of a sudden it was all going to shit. How was he going to tell Gabe about this? What was he going to say?  
  
His phone vibrated. He took a deep breath and checked it. It was a text from Gabe.  
  
_Space Jam is on TV and I can’t believe I was into this movie as a kid.  
  
_William sat up. It made him feel better that everything was still normal between him and Gabe, even if everything outside of their bubble was chaos. Suddenly, William had the thought that it could stay normal between them. Why did he have to tell Gabe anything? What was the likelihood that teachers heard rumors from students anyway? If he could keep the world away from his relationship for just a few more months, it wouldn’t even matter. William could handle the stares and rumors for another few months. And anyway, Brendon was right: a lot of the rumors were totally made up. So no one could possibly know which ones were real, or whether the rumor that he was dating Gabe was true in the first place. Why would he stress Gabe out? Why would he do anything that could endanger this relationship?  
  
Gabe texted again: _Changed my mind. This is my favorite movie._  
  
William smiled. Okay, fine. He was decided. He was going to keep these rumors to himself. Anything to keep this life with Gabe.  
  
He texted back, _I love that movie. Probably more than I love you.  
  
_ Gabe texted back almost instantly. _Harsh, but I get it. I think I love you and this movie equally.  
  
_They texted into the night, and by the time William got to school the next morning he felt almost normal. But it was impossible to ignore the stares and whispers, especially on Valentine’s Day. He suffered through the day, now hyper-aware of all of the looks and snickers that followed him. Creative writing was an exercise in humiliation. He didn’t know if he was imagining all of the eyes on him or if people really were staring at him while Gabe gave a lecture on the development of the love story. At the end of the class, William put his assignment on Gabe’s desk and left quickly. He just needed to get through the day so he could get to Gabe’s apartment for the weekend and be away from the prying eyes of his classmates.  
  
When he got home from school, he checked his phone to see a text from Gabe: _Hey, you kind of ran out of class today. Hope everything’s okay. See you in a few hours._  
  
William smiled and sent a quick “everything’s okay” text. His parents were already gone for the weekend, so he had no problems packing up and waiting the few hours before Brendon and Patrick swung by to bring him to Gabe’s on the way to Ryan’s. By the time William knocked on Gabe’s door, he had forgotten about how uncomfortable the day had been. He was ready for Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend.  
  
When Gabe opened the door, his mouth was set in a hard line, rather than the usual smile. “Come in,” he said, his voice low.  
  
William walked into the apartment and sat on the couch, sensing a lot of tension in the air. Gabe followed, sitting as far as possible away from William.  
  
“Is everything okay?” William asked. He had the feeling that Valentine’s Day was slipping away from him for some reason.  
  
“We should talk,” Gabe responded.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“As I was leaving school today, Principal Hicks waved me into his office. He said he wanted to talk about something.” Gabe was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “Do you want to guess what he wanted to talk about?”  
  
William shook his head, even though he could see where this was heading.  
  
“He wanted to let me know that there were rumors going around about me and one of my students. That the gossip of the week was that William Beckett and I were in a sexual relationship. I guess a student went to him about the rumors. He doesn’t believe the gossip. He told me this happens sometimes with new, young teachers. He just wanted me to be on my guard around you.”  
  
William felt the color drain from his face. He knew this wouldn’t end well. He couldn’t even keep Gabe from finding out about the rumors for one fucking day. “I didn’t tell anyone anything,” he said.  
  
“Frankly, that’s the least of my worries,” Gabe said. “You had to know people were talking. Looking back on this week, it’s crazy that I didn’t suspect anything because of the way people were staring at you in class, the way they were talking to each other when I kept you after. Did you know?”  
  
William swallowed. He was caught. He couldn’t lie to Gabe, but he didn’t want to tell the truth.  
  
Gabe took William’s silence as an answer. He laughed humorlessly and ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me this. I actually can’t believe you.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” William said, sweating. Gabe felt so far away. “I just thought we could get past it, or it wouldn’t matter, or –“  
  
“Wouldn’t _matter_?” Gabe yelled. “This matters more than anything! This is the ONE thing we needed to avoid!”  
  
“But some of the rumors are so ridiculous, no one could possibly believe them.”  
  
“ _Some_ of them? So some of them are realistic?”  
  
William sighed. There was no point in hiding anything anymore. “Someone saw us, I guess. At Hi Volt a few weeks ago.”  
  
Gabe’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Someone _saw_ us? And they’re telling people at school? And you _kept_ this from me?” He laughed again and got up, pacing across the room. “Will,” he said, turned away from the couch. “This isn’t working.”  
  
“Okay, what do we need to do?” William asked.  
  
Gabe turned around. “Nothing. This isn’t working, period. We need to…” he paused and looked at William sadly. “Come on, don’t make me say it.”  
  
The reality hit William like a truck. “Are you breaking up with me? On Valentine’s Day?”  
  
“I’m sorry that it’s Valentine’s Day,” Gabe said. “But come on, Will. People caught us. And you kept that from me.”  
  
“I didn’t want you to worry.”  
  
“You keep doing this. You keep deciding what I should worry about and keeping really important things from me. I thought you were more mature than this.”  
  
“That’s harsh.” William was practically begging himself not to cry.  
  
“Sorry, you’re right. But you are so goddamn… frustrating, Will! You know how important this is to me. This was the one big issue we were going to have, and you keep treating it like it’s nothing. You can’t try to keep me by lying to me. I can’t do this. I can’t worry about stress from outside of our relationshio and stress within it.”  
  
“Our relationship is _not_ stressful.” William was definitely crying now. He could feel the tears running down his face.  
  
Gabe could see them too, and he softened. “I know we don’t want it to be, but be real. We’re constantly looking over our shoulder, worried about work and school, trying to figure out how often we can cancel on our friends without them getting suspicious. It’s tiring.”  
  
William was sobbing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “But I love you.”  
  
Gabe sat next to William on the couch and took his hand. “I love you too. But sometimes love isn’t enough. You’re so far in the future that you’re ignoring the present. We can’t go one real dates. I can’t even go to a bar with you or take you parties. We wanted this to work, but it’s too hard. It’s not the right time. I’m so sorry, Will.”  
  
“What am I supposed to do on Monday?” William choked out. His head was spinning. Was this really the last time he was going to be in Gabe’s apartment? Was this really the last time they would hold hands? He felt like his life was ending.  
  
“If you wanna skip on Monday, I won’t go looking for you. You have to come back on Tuesday, though. It’s a weird time, but the sooner we can be normal around each other, the easier the rest of the year will be.”  
  
William continued to sob. He couldn’t think of any response.  
  
“Hey,” Gabe whispered, wiping the tears from William’s face. “I really do love you. This is not easy for me. But I’d rather love you from a distance and know that we can live the lives we want to live.”  
  
William couldn’t find the words to tell Gabe that the life he wanted to live was this one. He needed a drink. He needed to get out of this apartment. He felt like he was suffocating.  
  
“I should go then,” he said, standing up and grabbing his backpack. Ryan’s was just down the street. He would go there, get wildly drunk, kiss any boy that would let him. He would be so reckless that everyone would know he and Gabe weren’t dating, and maybe Gabe would hear the stories and know how much he’d hurt William.  
  
“I can take you home, Will,” Gabe said, standing up.  
  
“No you can’t,” William said, not crying but still so, so sad. “And don’t call me Will anymore. I mean it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this one is Alfie's Song by Bleachers!


	19. February: Patrick

Patrick was sitting on Pete’s couch, still fuming, when Pete walked in the front door with two coffees in his hand.  
  
“I’m back,” Pete said. “Are you still mad?”  
  
“If you ask me that one more time, I’m leaving,” Patrick grumbled. How could Pete even ask that?  
  
“I already said I was sorry.” Pete handed Patrick his coffee and sat on the couch next to him. “ _And_ you made your point last night. You gave me blue balls.”  
  
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”  
  
“It was, but I guess you’re just gonna stay mad.”  
  
Patrick didn’t respond. He sipped his coffee instead, annoyed about how good Pete was at remembering his order: exactly three creams and exactly two and a half sugars.  
  
“Patrick, come on. Are you just gonna sit here all day and not talk to me? That’s not fair.”  
  
That was enough to pt Patrick over the edge. “Do you really want to talk about _fair_? It’s not fair for _me_ to go to a party as your date and then watch you flirt with some random pretty boy all night.”  
  
“Oh my god, Patrick, can we drop it? It’s not that serious. I came home with you.”  
  
“But you spent all night with him! You completely ditched me. And everyone saw! It was embarrassing.”   
  
“Your friends were there. It’s not like you were alone.”  
  
“That’s not the point! The point was that I was there with and for you, and you totally blew me off!”  
  
Pete looked at Patrick, his expression totally blank. It made Patrick angrier than he could explain.  
  
“I don’t know why we keep talking about this,” Pete said finally.  
  
Patrick didn’t know either. He didn’t know how Pete could be two totally different people. Just last weekend he had given Patrick a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s Day and spent the entire weekend focused only on him. Even at Ryan’s Valentine’s Day party, Pete only had eyes for Patrick. And then last night Pete was all over some random guy at Ryan’s. He had barely said two words to Patrick until he sidled up to him at 1 am, already drunk, and asked Patrick to come home with him. Patrick had gone for some reason, but they’d fought most of the night. They’d finally gone to sleep, but Patrick didn’t feel any better when he woke up.  
  
“Don’t you see how much this is stressing me out?” Patrick asked. “Don’t you see how much I hate this? Having to share you?”  
  
“Yeah, but you’re not sharing me. You came home with me last night.”  
  
“Do you really not get that that doesn’t matter? I don’t want to be some secret or backup plan. I want you to always want me. Just me.”  
  
“Patrick, Jesus,” Pete said, getting angry himself. “Can you lay off for one day? We have talked about this and talked about this. I like you, and that has to be enough. It’s not my fault you don’t want to flirt with other people. It’s not my fault that you’re obsessed with this relationship. It’s so, god. It’s juvenile. I thought you were more mature than this!”  
  
“That was such a shitty thing to say. You knew how old I was when we got together! I don’t understand how you can be so opposed to someone wanting to be your boyfriend!”  
  
“I have said no so many times, Patrick! It’s been _months_ of this. This is so… so fucking boring!”  
  
Pete and Patrick had said a lot of things to each other. In the last few weeks, they had fought hard. But for some reason, this was the last straw. This was the thing that made Patrick feel the worst. He got up from the couch.   
  
“I have to go,” he said.  
  
“Good,” Pete huffed. He turned on the TV as Patrick walked out the door.   
  
Patrick drove to Brendon’s. He didn’t bother texting to see if Brendon and Bill would be there. He knew they would- Bill and Brendon had been sulking together since Bill broke up with Mr. Saporta and Brendon and Ryan had stopped hooking up. Now it was Patrick’s turn to join the pity party.  
  
He walked into Brendon’s house without knocking. Brendon and Bill were slumped on the couch, barely paying attention to the bad reality TV that was on. Brendon at least turned his head to see who had burst into the house; Bill stayed curled up, not seeming to notice that anyone had come in.  
  
“Hey dude,” Brendon said. “Everything okay? You were pretty pissed last night.”  
  
“Everything sucks,” Patrick huffed, falling into the armchair. “Pete’s being such a douche.”  
  
“What a surprise,” Bill said, his voice monotone, his eyes not moving from the TV.  
  
“Hey, can you be a little sympathetic?” Brendon shot at Bill. Then he turned to Patrick. “What happened?”  
  
Patrick relayed the whole story: the boy at the party, Pete drunkenly asking Patrick to come home with him, the fight last night, and the fight this morning, ending with Pete calling Patrick juvenile and boring.  
  
“I just don’t get it,” Patrick ended. “I don’t get how he can treat me like this.”  
  
“Yeah,” Brendon said, not exactly making eye contact with Patrick. “That really sucks.”  
  
Bill said nothing, still looking at the TV.  
  
“That’s all you two have to say?” Patrick asked, annoyed. “I was hoping for a little more this morning.”  
  
Brendon didn’t say anything. He glanced at Bill, who just shrugged.   
  
“Hello?” Patrick continued.  
  
“I don’t know, Patrick. This happens a lot. What are we supposed to say?” Brendon answered slowly, looking apologetic.  
  
“Are you serious?” Patrick said. “You’re not gonna help me because you don’t like Pete?”  
  
“It’s not about Pete,” Bill said firmly. “It’s about you.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“This whole story – and I’m not talking about just today, I’m talking about every other weekend since September – is about Pete fucking you over and you saying it’s okay.”  
  
“Are you serious? That’s out of line.”  
  
“No it isn’t,” Bill replied. “Pete is a shitty boyfriend. Actually, we can’t even call him your boyfriend because he won’t commit to you. And you let him walk all over you! What do you expect, Patrick? He keeps taking and you keep giving! What did you think was gonna happen?”  
  
Patrick was _pissed_. He hadn’t really gotten over the fight he’d had with Pete, and it was easier to direct that anger at Bill than at Pete. “You’re my fucking frined, Bill. Can you at least be a little supportive?”  
  
“No!” Bill yelled. Brendon looked shocked but didn’t do anything to stop him. “Let’s go over this little episode, shall we? You went to a party with Pete. Pete flirted with someone else, which he does _all the time_. Then he asked you to go home with him, and even though you were ‘mad at him,’ you went with him! You could have said no, but you didn’t! Then you got in a fight with him last night and even though he insulted you, you slept over there! And then you fought again this morning and let him insult you more before you finally left! He says and does whatever he wants to you because you let him! This isn’t new!”  
  
“I am _trying_ to make this work –“  
  
“Why? He has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t give a shit what you want, and you just fucking take it! You wait around for him to change, and you let him get away with everything, and then he spends hours cuddled up to some guy while you’re in the same room! Why are you letting him do that? I mean, fuck, do you have _any_ respect for yourself?!”  
  
“Whoa, Bill,” Brendon said, but Patrick didn’t need Brendon sticking up for him.  
  
“Oh, you think you’re on some high horse?” Patrick yelled back. If Bill wanted a fight, he could have one. “Why? Because you fucked your English teacher? And how did that work out for you? Just because your relationship predictably fell apart does not mean you can shit all over me!”  
  
Bill looked hurt, and Patrick felt bad for a split second. But then Bill shot back, “At least my boyfriend _loved_ me. At least we broke up over something that was out of our control! You’re the one following around some asshole who does. Not. Want. you. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself.”  
  
“I’m out of here,” Patrick growled. This was not the support he wanted – it wasn’t any support at all. How dare Bill talk like that to him. Patrick got up and stalked out of the house.  
  
His hand was on the driver’s side door when he heard Brendon yelling behind him. He looked up to see Brendon running toward his car, bracing against the cold in his pajamas.   
  
“What?” Patrick spat, not sure why he was angry at Brendon, but figuring he had a right to be.   
  
“That was crazy in there,” Brendon said. “Sorry about Bill. You know he’s going through it.”  
  
“Yeah, well that didn’t give him a pass to say all of that shit. Can you believe him?”  
  
Brendon grimaced in response.  
  
“What?” Patrick asked again.  
  
“Look, I’m not good with this advice stuff, you know that,” Brendon said, “but I think… I think Bill is right.”  
  
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Patrick yelled. What the fuck was going on with everyone today?  
  
“Hear me out. Bill could have been a lot nicer about it, but he has a point. Pete’s been pretty shitty to you since you two got together. And I thought it was because he didn’t know what you want, but it’s clear that he does. And he won’t give it to you.”  
  
“All relationships are compromises,” Patrick responded, repeating a line that Pete had said to him countless times in the past few months.  
  
“That’s true, but you’re not really compromising, are you?” Brendon said. “You’re doing whatever Pete wants, even though you hate it. Is this guy worth it?”  
  
Patrick didn’t know why he suddenly felt deeply, disarmingly sad. Maybe it was because Brendon was being so nice to him, and maybe it was because it was obvious Brendon felt bad for him. But it was probably because, as much as Patrick was fighting the feeling, he knew Brendon was right. He had pushed down those thoughts himself, but now that someone else was saying them, Patrick realized that it was so obvious what Pete was doing.  
  
“I just like him so much. Why can’t he want the same things I want?” Patrick whispered.  
  
Brendon came around the car to hug Patrick. “He’s a jerk,” Brendon said. “People can be jerks. But he’s the first person you’ve dated, not the last. Now you know what you want. Every heartbreak is a lesson.”  
  
“Thanks,” Patrick said. “I’m gonna go home and sulk, but I’ll talk to you later.”  
  
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to Bill. He needs to apologize.”  
  
Brendon went back into his house and Patrick got into his car. Well, that was that. Patrick and Pete were probably over. Patrick didn’t even know what to say to Pete. What did a breakup look like when you weren’t even dating someone?  
  
His phone vibrated and pulled him out of his thoughts. He checked it to see that Pete had texted him.  
  
 _Hey, I’m really sorry about last night and this morning. Come back and hang out? I’ll make it up to you. I feel awful.  
  
_ Patrick read the text again. Was he stupid for getting excited, for thinking things were actually looking up? Was he in too deep? Could he really just ignore everything his friends said, everything he felt, so that he could be okay with continuing to see Pete?  
  
The answer to all those questions, Patrick thought as he pulled out of Brendon’s driveway and drove in the direction of Pete’s apartment, was a resounding yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, this took foreverrrr. I am so sorry about the delay!
> 
> Song for this one is Love And Memories by OAR!


	20. March: William

As much as William wanted them to, nothing went back to normal in the weeks after he and Gabe broke up. To start, he and Patrick were on bad terms since their fight. William apologized pretty soon after the argument, and Patrick accepted, but things were still tense. William thought he deserved an apology of his own for what Patrick had said to him. And Patrick hadn’t even broken up with Pete, which made William angrier than he had expected.  
  
Worse than the tension between him and Patrick was the tension between him and… everyone else at school. Even though he made sure he was the last person in the classroom before creative writing and the first person out once class was over, he knew people were still pushing the rumors about him and Gabe. The rumors were getting crazier, too – he’d heard from Brendon that people were saying he and Gabe had moved in together, that they were looking at adopting a kid together, and that there was a sex tape floating around. Eventually, William told Brendon to stop keeping him in the loop, partially because hearing all of the bullshit was getting on his nerves.  
  
But more than that, the rumors made him sad. He couldn’t believe this weird inverse life he was living. Everyone at school thought he and Gabe were together, when in reality they weren’t. Some of the tamer rumors, like that he was going to live with Gabe during college and that they were adopting a dog, were still out there, but they were close enough to reality that it hurt to hear them. They reminded William of what he had lost.  
  
Creative writing was agony. He felt miserable every time he was in class. Gabe would barely look at him. Which checked out – sometimes William would drunk text him, and Gabe never responded. William knew Gabe was trying to out walls between them, and he couldn’t blame Gabe for that. He understood what had happened: Gabe had almost lost everything, and really, so had William. All for what? Five or six months of sneaking around, of not meeting each other’s friends, of talking about the future to help them get through the present? William could see how Gabe didn’t think it was worth it.  
  
But it was worth it to William. Every risk, every fight had been worth it for every smile, every date, every night spent reading out loud to each other and kissing until they fell asleep. He felt lost without Gabe, the person he had structed his entire senior year around. He wasn’t sleeping, he was having a hard time focusing in school, and he knew he was drinking too much on weekends. He often thought about what Gabe would say if he knew how William was behaving. The fact that Gabe came into class with bags under his eyes and seemed less animated during his lectures made him feel a little better about everything.  
  
“Okay,” Gabe said, wrapping up his lecture. “Spring is coming, and we all know this is a season of growth and renewal, for nature and for people. So this week, I’d like everyone to write about growth. Please, try to avoid coming-of-age stories, that’s what the Young Adult section of Barnes & Noble is for. I want you to get creative with this. It should still be fictional, but make it personal.”  
  
Great. William didn’t feel like he was growing or changing at all. He didn’t want to write some cutesy story about how everything goes right. He fought not to roll his eyes.  
  
He bolted out of the room as soon as soon as the bell rang, so he was first in his class for next period.  
  
“Ah, William,” Mr. Armstrong said as William sat at his desk. “Principal Hicks wants to see you. I’d like you to go now so you miss as little of my class as possible.”  
  
William’s stomach flipped. There was no reason, other than these rumors, that the principal would want to see him. Did Principal Hicks know? Had he found out? Mr. Armstrong wrote a hall pass for William, and he took it with shaking hands.  
  
He walked slowly to the principal’s office, partially to avoid going back to class and partially because he felt like he was walking to his death. He was a good kid in school. Teachers loved him. He knew what this was about, and it wasn’t going to be good.  
  
Principal Hicks was in his office when William got there. “Mr. Beckett!” he said from behind his desk, warm and friendly as always. “Come on in. Close the door behind you, please.”  
  
William closed the door and sat down in front of Principal Hick’s desk. He was sweating. He thought he might throw up.  
  
“So, how’s your last year treating you? Your grades look stellar.”  
  
“Oh, it’s going good. Fine.”  
  
“That’s great to hear. What are you thinking about college?”  
  
“I’m thinking about Columbia College Chicago, or Northwestern if I get in.”  
  
“Those are great choices. Thinking about doing English, I take it?”  
  
“Yeah. Uh, creative writing.”  
  
“I thought as much. The English teachers here really love you.” Principal Hicks hesitated before saying, “Which leads me to why I asked you down here.”  
  
William swallowed. His mouth was suddenly very dry. “Yes?”  
  
“There have been some… rumors floating around about you and the new creative writing teacher, Mr. Saporta. I’m sure you’ve heard about them.”  
  
William nodded in response.  
  
“Right, well, I know that the nature of rumors is that they take a while to get to the person they’re actually about. So just to get you up to speed in case you weren’t aware, these rumors have been going for about three weeks. I spoke to Mr. Saporta about it when I was first made aware of them. You’d be surprised how many rumors go around about good students and attractive teachers. He assured me nothing was going on, and I let it drop. But the rumors haven’t gone away, and I’m a little concerned.”  
  
William bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything. He felt like the floor was going to swallow him up.  
  
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Principal Hicks continued, “but I just wanted to talk to you. Because if anything were happening, that would be very dangerous for you and Mr. Saporta. Very, very dangerous. And I want you to know that you can talk to me, because all I want is for you to be safe and happy.”  
  
“Nothing’s going on,” William said, finally finding his voice.  
  
“Okay,” Principal Hicks replied, visibly relieved. “Do you have any idea why these rumors are sticking?”  
  
William cleared his throat. Jesus Christ, could this conversation just end already? “No clue,” he said. “I know a few months ago people found out about my grades, and they started talking about how I was a teacher’s pet. That’s probably where it started.”  
  
Principal Hicks nodded. “That makes sense. High schoolers are so jealous sometimes. They feel like they aren’t getting the right grades or the right amount of attention, and they try to find some hateful reason for it. Thank you for clearing that up for me.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“You know, I didn’t want to tell you this before because I didn’t want it to sway your answer, but I did talk to Mr. Saporta this morning about this issue. He had great things to say about you.”  
  
William perked up. “Really?”  
  
“Yes. He said you were a very gifted writer and an excellent student. And, this is just between us, but he said you were a brilliant person and he was going to miss you very much next year.”  
  
William sat in Principal Hicks’s office and fought back tears. Of course to Principal Hicks would just think it was a teacher talking about a really good student, but William knew better. He missed Gabe so so much, and to know that Gabe was still thinking about him made him feel so good. But he knew that it didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t exactly walk into Gabe’s classroom and tell Gabe he missed him too. It was almost enough to know Gabe was struggling too, but not quite.  
  
“That’s really nice of him,” William said finally.  
  
“Well, it seems to be well-deserved. Thanks for chatting with me, Mr. Beckett. Have a good rest of your day.”  
  
William, of course, did not have a good rest of his day. He sulked through the school day and sulked in the back seat of Patrick’s car. He sulked on the walk from Patrick’s car to his door. He sulked when he got inside and said hello to his mom, and he felt especially offended at his mom’s cheery demeanor.  
  
“Hi, William!” she practically shouted.  
  
“Hey mom.”  
  
“I got the mail when I came home,” his mom said, “and there’s something in the kitchen you’ll want to see.”  
  
William furrowed his brow and trudged into the kitchen. And there, on the table, was a big envelope from Northwestern, the word WELCOME printed across it in big letters.  
  
“Oh my god,” William said to his mom, who had followed him into the kitchen. “I got in?!”  
  
“You got in!” She was definitely shouting now. She pulled William into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”  
  
With his mom watching, he tore open the envelope to read the offer letter. He couldn’t believe it. He’d gotten into Northwestern! He’d written a great essay, which Gabe had helped edit, and he had the grades, but he really didn’t think he would get this chance. He felt happy for the first time in weeks.  
  
He texted Patrick and Brendon the news. He was still mad about what had happened between him and Patrick, but this was big news, and he and Patrick were still best friends.  
  
His mood crashed immediately when he realized the other person he wanted to share this news with, the person he wanted to tell more than anyone else in the world, was Gabe, and there was no way he could tell him. He told his mom he had work to do and trudged to his room.  
  
He opened his laptop and stared at the blank work document he opened. Suddenly, after getting into college, high school didn’t seem that important. The only work he felt like he really wanted to keep doing was creative writing. He wanted to write this story about growth, but he didn’t know how to write it.  
  
Slowly, he had an idea. He could write about himself. Sure, it was supposed to be fiction, but what was Gabe going to do, give him an F? Even if he did, William had a good enough grade in the class that it wouldn’t really matter. Grades didn’t seem to be important anymore, and all William wanted was to let Gabe know how he felt.  
  
_It's been a strange day,_ he started. _I got into Northwestern, which was an amazing accomplishment. But I know that it wouldn’t have happened without help from someone that I love and trust._  
  
William wrote his story, about the people he had loved and what they had done for him. He wrote about Adam in eighth grade, a boy that William was obsessed with in a way he didn’t know how to explain at the time. He had realized a little too late that he liked Adam they way Adam liked girls, and by then it was the summer and Adam had chosen to go to a high school in Chicago. He wrote about Travis and the summer they spent together between freshman and sophomore year. He wrote about learning to kiss boys and learning to hold his alcohol and learning to love himself. And finally, he wrote about Gabe, about meeting a mysterious guy at a club he wasn’t supposed to be in, about falling so hard he was blind to the risks, about learning that love can be so strong that it hurts.  
  
_As I go off to college, I wonder if maybe I’ve already found the love of my life,_ William finished. _I know I’m young, but this feels so big and all-consuming. If this really is the love of my life, and it really is over, I know I’ll be okay. I know now that so much of life is treasuring the moments you had with people you hold in your heart, even after those moments are done.  
  
_Too sappy? William didn’t care. He didn’t even feel like editing the story. This wasn’t a story anyway. It was a letter, meant just for Gabe. It was risky, but what this year hadn’t been? He felt good about it.  
  
He went to dinner with his parents to celebrate his college acceptance. His thoughts wandered back to Gabe often, but now they were also wandering somewhere else: into the future. Things weren’t okay, exactly, but maybe they would be soon. And that was enough for William.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this one is Little Wanderer by Death Cab For Cutie!


	21. March: Patrick

Patrick curled into Pete’s side as they watched the movie Pete put on. He was happy to spend the night with Pete. He had convinced Pete not to go to Ryan’s party tonight. Brendon and Bill were in such bad moods recently. And their hatred for Pete was at an all-time high. Patrick pretended it didn’t bother him, but the truth was that it did. Why did Pete’s mistakes matter so much to them? Why didn’t it matter that Patrick was happy?  
  
He knew, deep down, what their answer would be: Patrick probably wasn’t happy.  
  
He pushed the thought aside and nuzzled further into Pete’s side, taking in his scent, reminding himself how comfortable this felt. Pete put his arm around Patrick’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head.  
  
“Nights like this feel so good,” Pete whispered. “I’m glad we’re together.”  
  
Patrick’s heart swelled. He looked up at Pete. “Me too.”  
  
Pete leaned down and pressed his mouth to Patrick’s, holding Patrick’s face with his free hand. Patrick wrapped his arm around Pete’s waist. This. This was it, the best feeling Patrick had ever felt. To be in Pete’s orbit, to know Pete felt the same way, to have something that just belonged to him, to _them_. It made him feel older, more experienced, sexier. It made him feel something so deep, he could barely explain it.  
  
He hadn’t expected to say it. He hadn’t even realized that he felt it. So it was a shock to Pete and Patrick when, once they pulled apart, Patrick whispered, his eyes still closed, “I love you.”  
  
When Patrick opened his eyes, he saw Pete frown as he pulled away from him. Pete looked uncomfortable. Patrick wished instantly he could take back what he said, but he also knew that he meant it.  
  
“Patrick…” Pete said, his voice strained. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“Sorry,” Patrick said, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to smooth this over.  
  
“I mean, we’re not there yet. Why do you keep doing this? You keep trying to push this to be more than what it is.”  
  
“Wait, what?” Patrick replied, suddenly confused himself. “We’re not _there_ yet? We’ve been… together for six months. Boyfriend or not, that’s a lot of time. Your feelings for me haven’t gotten any deeper?”  
  
“I haven’t thought about it, I guess.”  
  
“Okay.” But it wasn’t okay. How long was Patrick going to have to sit in limbo? When would there be literally _any_ forward movement in this relationship?  
  
“I just don’t want to talk about all of that,” Pete said.  
  
“I said okay,” Patrick snapped. “We can drop it.”  
  
“Can we? That admission changes this whole thing.”  
  
“It only does if you let it. I won’t say it again.” Patrick crossed his arms and stared at the TV, but his eyes and mind wandered. Was he really trying to hide his feelings so he could keep dating Pete? Were they even dating? He couldn’t tell day-to-day. And wasn’t it weird that they had been doing… whatever this was for six months and Pete hadn’t thought about how he felt about Patrick? Patrick had been nothing but loyal to Pete, even though Pete was adamant that they do something Patrick did not want to do.   
  
And for what? Patrick looked around at the apartment. The couch was a futon with holes in it, there was never food in the fridge but it was always filthy, there were always dishes in the sink, Pete used old sheets as curtains. There was no furniture in the bedroom except Pete’s mattress and a dresser that didn’t fit all of Pete’s clothes. Patrick had thought that being in your mid-twenties was more glamorous. And maybe it wasn’t, but Patrick could see that just being in your mid-twenties didn’t make you an adult. Just having an apartment didn’t make you responsible or sophisticated. Just being in a band didn’t make you a god. Just being more experienced didn’t mean that you got to make the rules.  
  
“Actually,” Patrick said after a minute, “maybe this does change things. I can’t believe we’ve been together this long and your response to me saying I love you is to recoil and flip out.”  
  
“Jesus, Patrick, you said you would drop it.”  
  
“Yeah, well I’m not dropping it. What the fuck is going on, Pete? What are we?”  
  
“You know what we are!”  
  
“No I don’t! I know what I want, but I don’t know what’s actually happening because you can’t explain it to me. We’re together but you aren’t my boyfriend. We spend every weekend together except when you happen to meet someone else for the night. We go out but we aren’t dating. You’re happy we’re together but you can’t even think about whether you love me. What is this?”  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ, Patrick. I like being around you. Why can’t that be enough?”  
  
“I liked being around you in August. My feelings for you _developed_ , which is a normal fucking occurrence.”  
  
“Maybe in high school.”  
  
Patrick scoffed. “Tell that to your friend Gabe. He and Bill told each other they love each other.”  
  
“And look at where that ended up.”  
  
“So you think that if we get serious, we’re gonna break up?”  
  
“No,” Pete snapped. “I just don’t want to get serious, okay? I don’t like the idea. I don’t want to do it. I mean, fuck. You’re sitting here talking to me about love and being exclusive and we haven’t even had sex.”  
  
“Are you fucking kidding, Pete? You’ve never once had a problem with our sex life, and now you’re throwing it in my face?”  
  
“I didn’t mean that. I just… you get on my case about this so much and you know it’s not gonna change my mind. It annoys me. We were having a good time.”  
  
Patrick didn’t respond. He was fuming. How dare Pete bring up the fact that they hadn’t had sex. They’d done everything else, and it wasn’t like Pete wasn’t having sex with other guys. As usual, the thought made Patrick’s stomach twist. Was this what love felt like? Was love angry? Was love frustrating? Did love mean avoiding your friends, holding your tongue when you were upset, and letting the person you loved hook up with other people, even when it made you uncomfortable? Pete made Patrick feel so much, but how much of it was good and how much of it was horrible? How many bad days was Patrick going to have to go through so he could get some good ones?  
  
Suddenly, he knew what his friends meant. He knew why they didn’t like Pete. Patrick did love Pete, he could feel it. But did he like Pete? Did he like this?  
  
Without thinking too much about it, Patrick got up. “I’m going to Ryan’s party,” he said, grabbing his keys and heading toward the door. He willed himself not to look back at Pete. He knew if he let Pete get under his skin for one second, he wouldn’t be able to do this.  
  
“Fine. Hold up, let me put my shoes on,” Pete said, still sounding frustrated.  
  
“No,” Patrick said. His knees were weak, but he made sure his voice was strong. “I’m going to hang out with my friends. And I don’t think you should come with me. I don’t think we should go to parties together anymore.”  
  
“What are you-“  
  
“Or do anything together anymore,” Patrick said, cutting Pete off, still not looking at him. “I don’t think we should be together anymore.”  
  
Patrick had a lot more to say, but he didn’t want to say it, Not right now. He bolted out of Pete’s front door before Pete could say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back from the dead! 
> 
> Song for this one is Last Night by Motion City Soundtrack


	22. March: Brendon

Everything was okay. It was a typical Friday afternoon. Brendon was walking through the hallways at school and listening to Sarah chatter about prom committee. After school, they were going to dinner and a movie. This was the ideal start to a weekend. Brendon was just an all-American teen. His foray into homosexuality was a footnote in his life, a funny story he would tell in college.  
  
The ache Brendon felt when he thought about Ryan didn’t matter. Neither did the fact that he had dreams about Ryan almost every night. They’d been sexual for a while, but now Brendon was dreaming about an alternate reality where he and Ryan were fully dating, holding hands in Las Vegas and sharing a studio apartment. Brendon held onto these dreams as long as he could. They made him feel comfortable and warm.  
  
He hadn’t told Ryan about the dreams. They weren’t really on speaking terms. After Brendon had asked Sarah to be his girlfriend, Ryan had come to his house less and less frequently, and now he wasn’t coming over at all. He wouldn’t hang out with Brendon at his parties, so Brendon had started trying to make excuses not to go, even though Sarah still had a great time and Ryan still talked to her. Last week, Brendon had stopped Ryan at his locker and tried to convince him to come over to work on their Music Theory project, but Ryan had said he had it under control and walked away. They hadn’t talked since then.  
  
He didn’t tell anyone else about them either. He didn’t want anyone to think he was unsure of the choice he made. He and Bill had been hanging out a lot recently, ostensibly to make Bill feel better about his breakup. But Brendon thought Bill probably knew he was going through his own type of breakup. They were both sad. They were both missing someone.  
  
“How’s Patrick?” Sarah asked as they made their way into the Music Theory room. “It seems like he’s taking the breakup kind of hard.”  
  
“I think the breakup itself is fine,” Brendon said. “I think he’s sad that his first relationship looked like that. All he wanted was someone to be all in with him, ya know?”  
  
“Well, that’s what we all want.”  
  
Brendon didn’t think about the pang he felt in his chest when Sarah said that.  
  
“Are he and Bill doing better, at least?” she asked.  
  
“A little. They’re both very prideful, so neither of them will apologize but both of them are acting like they don’t need an apology.”  
  
“Well, they better get with the program and move on,” Sarah said. Brendon laughed and took his seat as the bell rang.  
  
Ryan wasn’t in class. Today, the teacher had blocked off the whole class to work with their partners on the final. Brendon wondered if Ryan intentionally skipped. He wrote in his notebook for the period, constructing lyrics that would never turn into songs. He tried to write about Sarah, which he knew he should do. That was the way boyfriends acted- they wrote poems and songs and stories for their girlfriends.   
  
_When the moon fell in love with the sun  
All was golden in the sky  
All was golden when the day met the night  
  
_Yeah, that was good. Sarah was the moon. That was definitely his thought process as he was writing. He wasn’t writing about anyone else. He wasn’t thinking that he had had the choice between two lives and he’d stepped into the wrong one. Maybe he would make this an actual song and sing it to Sarah at prom. He kept writing.  
  
It was easy to daydream the class away. When the bell rang to signal the end of class, he came back to reality and stuffed his notebook into his backpack.  
  
“Brendon,” Ms. Atwell said as he got up to leave. “I’d like a word.”  
  
Sarah frowned at him and left him alone while everyone else filed out of class. When it was just him and Ms. Atwell, Brendon trudged to her desk.  
  
“Take a seat,” she said. Brendon pulled up a chair.  
  
“You know I think you and Ryan are a really good pair, artistically speaking,” Ms. Atwell started. “And it’s partially because you two work really well together.”  
  
“Thanks,” Brendon said.  
  
“I wish Ryan was in school today, because I’d like to get both of your thoughts on the question I’m about to ask you.” Ms. Atwell paused, then asked, “Has something happened with you two?”  
  
Brendon gulped. “Um, he’s a new kid, so we didn’t really know each other at the beginning of the year. We just… aren’t close.”  
  
“Are you sure that’s it?”  
  
“Yeah.” Brendon wanted to melt into his seat.  
  
“Okay, I’m going to play you something that Ryan turned in to me at the beginning of the week while you decide whether you’re totally sure that’s it.”  
  
Ms. Atwell clicked a few times on her computer. Music played through her speakers. It wasn’t bad. Pretty angsty.  
  
But then Ryan started singing.  
  
Brendon sat while he and his teacher listened to the angriest, most sexually charged song Brendon had ever heard. Ryan actually SANG the words “I’ve got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck, than any boy you’ll ever meet.” Brendon wanted to run and hide. And he was getting a little turned on, which made his embarrassment worse.  
  
They listened in silence until the chorus was over, then Ms. Atwell paused the song.  
  
“Okay,” she started, folding her hands and obviously trying to conceal a smile. “A couple of things.”  
  
“I am so sorry about that,” Brendon blurted. “I didn’t know-“  
  
“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” Ms. Atwell said. “It’s not the subtlest song in the world, but it’s not garbage. Your assignment isn’t due for another month or so. I feel like this was meant to get someone’s attention. Did you write this with Ryan at all? Please be honest with me. No one is getting in trouble.”  
  
“Well… no. I didn’t,” Brendon answered.  
  
“I thought as much. I don’t think Ryan turned this in to get my attention. Do you know what I mean?”  
  
Brendon nodded.  
  
“Your first song was so earnest and sweet. And it was a little sad. I just want you to know, I don’t think you should be doing anything or hanging out with anyone who makes you sad.”  
  
“Ryan doesn’t make me sad,” Brendon said quickly. Was he… choking up? “Ryan never makes me sad.”  
  
Ms. Atwell smiled, and there was something in her eyes that Brendon couldn’t place. “Okay. You two really were a good pair. I’m not sure what happened here, but I’m sorry that you two aren’t getting along.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“Brendon. I know being a teenager kind of sucks. Everyone is telling you you have to do things you don’t want to do. Everyone is telling you what’s good for you. But weirdly enough, one day you will look back on this time and miss it. My advice to you is to spend the next few months before you graduate doing things that make you happy and avoiding things that make you upset. Make good memories.”  
  
Brendon just nodded. He knew Ms. Atwell had no clue what was going on, but she did give really good advice.   
  
“Just so you know, I’m gonna forget about this song. I’ll talk to Ryan next time he’s in class, but this won’t count against you or anything. Just go live your life.”  
  
“Thanks,” Brendon said. He got up and left the music room. Sarah was waiting for him outside of the door.  
  
“What happened?” Sarah asked, taking Brendon’s hand.  
  
“Oh, Ryan just turned in the wrong song for our final. Ms. Atwell wanted to let me know she wasn’t going to grade it.”  
  
“That’s weird. That’s not like Ryan to turn in the wrong thing. And so early. We have like a month left to write something.”  
  
Sarah kept talking, but Brendon tuned out. He was thinking about what Ms. Atwell said. About being happy. About doing what he wanted.   
  
When he got home, he trudged up the stairs alone. It was still weird not to have Ryan’s energy around him. He never got used to how alone he felt without him. He looked at the acceptance letter to UNLV on his desk. He had gotten it three days ago and hadn’t told anyone. He collapsed onto his bed.  
  
After fighting with himself about it for a few minutes, he pulled out his phone to text Ryan.  
  
 _I heard the song you turned in. Ms. Atwell said she wasn’t grading it, so we have to turn something else in.  
  
_ After a few minutes, Ryan’s response came through: _Okay.  
  
_ Brendon groaned out loud. What the fuck was going on? He’d heard the song. He knew Ryan was mad at him, was maybe a little jealous. Why couldn’t he just SAY that? And why couldn’t Brendon say what he wanted to say?  
  
Brendon rifled through his backpack until he found his notebook from music theory. He flipped to the lyrics he had written in class earlier, took a picture of the page, took a deep breath, and sent the picture to Ryan. Maybe it wasn’t everything he wanted to say, but at least it was something.  
  
Brendon checked his phone every five minutes for the rest of the night, even on his date with Sarah. He checked all day on Saturday. But Ryan never texted him back.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of unintended, but March was a bad month for everybody I guess.
> 
> Song for this one is OBVIOUSLY Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by Panic! at the Disco


	23. April: Patrick

Patrick sat in his car outside of Ryan’s. The music was already so loud that Patrick could hear it in his car, which didn’t do anything to ease his anxiety. He had come to Ryan’s totally alone. This was the first party he’d come to since he and Pete had broken up a couple of weeks ago. That night, he had come to Ryan’s, downed two beers, found Bill flirting with some boy Patrick didn’t recognize, and told him what had happened. Thankfully, Bill hadn’t said “I told you so.” But he had taken a sip of his drink, pressed his lips together, and said “Hmm.” Which hadn’t exactly been what Patrick was looking for from his friend. He’d rolled his eyes and left the party, going home to cry and force himself to not respond to Pete’s texts.  
  
In hindsight, Partick probably deserved Bill’s treatment that night. Patrick hadn’t responded when Bill told him he had gotten into Northwestern. He hadn’t told Bill that he’d gotten into University of Chicago. And he hadn’t done anything to alleviate the tension during car rides to and from school. He justified it by telling himself that he, Brendon, and Bill were all separately upset about different things and didn’t want to talk anyway, but he knew deep down that the stalemate between him and Bill was really to blame.  
  
So tonight, he didn’t have Pete, who was more than likely at this party anyway, he didn’t have Brendon, who was here with Sarah in a campaign for Prom King and Queen, and he didn’t have Bill, because they were mad at each other about a bunch of shit that didn’t matter anymore. He was shooting 0 for 3. Not the best Friday night.  
  
He took a breath and got out of the car. He was going to have to get used to this. He wasn’t going to have his friends or a boyfriend when he started college, so it was probably a good thing that he had to do this alone. Maybe there would be college boys here. He thought about Gerard from a few months ago before pushing the memory away in shame.  
  
He opened the door to the typical view: bodies pressed together, freshmen looking like they were going to be sick any minute, jocks and punks arguing over something before falling into fits of laughter. It was crazy to Patrick how so much chaos could make him feel so at home. He went to the kitchen to find some beer.  
  
It took him less than a second to see Pete. It was like Patrick was hard-wired to search for him in a crowd. He was in the kitchen too, flashing his devilish grin at the boy who was crowding him against the wall furthest from the fridge. Patrick stared for slightly too long before quickly grabbing a beer and pushing out of the kitchen. When he got into the living room, he stood in the corner, opened his beer, and took a big swig. God, it hurt to see Pete smiling a smile that had just been reserved for Patrick for so long.  
  
Then Patrick remembered that it actually hadn’t been reserved just for him. And that hurt worse. He took another gulp of beer.  
  
“Hey dude,” a voice said next to Patrick. He turned and saw Ryan, holding a solo cup filled to the brim with what Patrick could only guess was some original, too sweet, and very alcoholic concoction.  
  
“Hey,” Patrick said. “Great party.”  
  
Ryan shrugged. “It’s second nature now. I’m surprised to see you here by yourself.”  
  
“Yeah, you know, Pete and I aren’t really seeing each other anymore.”  
  
“I heard,” Ryan replied. “I’m sorry about that, dude. And I’m sorry if you see him around tonight. I’m sure he’s going to be in rare form for the next few weeks. He was kind of shitty, but believe it or not he did rein it in when he was dating you.”  
  
“Yeah. It just sucks, you know. We just… never got it right.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I know Pete, and let me just tell you that’s not your fault.”  
  
“Thanks. You’re a good guy, Ryan. Sorry we haven’t hung out recently.”  
  
Ryan’s face twisted into a humorless smile. “It’s not a problem. Brendon and I were close, but he’s a little preoccupied now.” Ryan pointed into the crowd, where Patrick saw Brendon and Sarah hanging onto each other, laughing with some people from school.  
  
“Brendon really liked you,” Patrick said without thinking about it. “He still does, I think.”  
  
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ryan muttered, sounding annoyed. He took a long drink from his cup before asking cheerfully, “Well, what about Bill? He’s around, I think I saw him earlier.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, things are… weird with us right now. We got in a fight a couple months ago and never really recovered.”  
  
“Don’t do that,” Ryan said seriously.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Don’t do that. Don’t let your friend go because of something stupid, or because you don’t want to say something you should say. You and Bill and Brendon are the perfect example of the perfect friendship. Don’t fuck it up this late in the game.”  
  
Patrick wondered if Ryan was a little drunk. “Yeah, thanks, man.”  
  
“I mean it. Don’t lose somebody just because you didn’t think you had the right words to make everything okay.”  
  
Patrick had the sneaking suspicion that Ryan wasn’t talking about him and Bill. “I won’t,” he answered.  
  
Ryan finished his drink in one more gulp, nodded, then said, “Okay, I have to go mingle. Have a good time tonight if I don’t see you again.”  
  
When Ryan sauntered off, Patrick finished his beer and decided to do a lap. Maybe he would find some cute boy to crowd him against a wall. Or maybe he would find Bill. He really did miss Bill.  
  
He didn’t expect to run into Pete on the way back to the kitchen, but he did.  
  
“Patrick,” Pete said, breathless, his tongue sticking on the “t” in a way that made Patrick think he was probably drunk.  
  
“Hey,” Patrick said, stunned. God, Pete was beautiful. He loved Pete so much. _No,_ Patrick thought. _Remember how shitty this year has been. Be strong._  
  
“Do you have a minute?” Pete asked, swaying a little bit. Patrick considered it. He was now certain Pete was drunk. And he had done such a good job of not talking to Pete, of starting the process of moving on. But here Pete was, in front of him, so handsome and looking right at him. And Patrick couldn’t deny his own feelings. He nodded.  
  
Pete grinned, took Patrick’s hand, and led him upstairs to a bedroom. Okay, not bad. Patrick could definitely get behind a hookup. One last round before they really let go of each other.  
  
Pete sat down on the bed and Patrick followed. It was so easy, when Pete leaned into Patrick and kissed him, to kiss back, to run his fingers through Pete’s hair, to moan a little bit when Pete bit his lip. It felt so good, if not a little sad, to say goodbye this way. Patrick knew as Pete pushed him back on the bed that this was going to be the last time they would do this, so he tried to focus on every moment. He tried to focus on how Pete sounded and felt, and tried to forget how in love he was, how hard this was going to be when it was over.  
  
They kissed slowly for a while. Patrick let himself get lost in the taste of liquor on Pete’s tongue, the familiar sensation of Pete on top of him. When Pete pulled away from Patrick, they stared at each other. Patrick could feel himself melting.  
  
“Let’ssget back together,” Pete said suddenly. Patrick could tell he was trying to compose himself, but he had slurred his speech so that “let’s” and “get” had sounded like one word.  
  
“You’re drunk,” Patrick said simply. He could not, _would not_ , have this conversation.  
  
“Yeah,” Pete said, climbing off of Patrick and sitting on the bed. “Yeah, definitely. But I still wanna get back together. I miss you.”  
  
Patrick sat up, his heart beating against his ribs. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be with Pete. He wanted Pete to miss him. But something felt off.  
  
“Were we together?” Patrick asked.  
  
“Ugh,” Pete groaned. “I miss you but I do not miss this.” He leaned his head on Patrick’s shoulder and whispered, “Come on, Patrick, we had fun, right? I miss having fun.”  
  
Patrick’s mouth formed the word “yes,” but he couldn’t actually say it. Had they had fun? In the weeks since Patrick and Pete had stopped hanging out, Patrick realized that he actually hadn’t had that much fun with Pete. It was always a struggle. He was always fighting for Pete to see him. It didn’t change how Patrick felt about Pete, but it definitely changed how Patrick felt about their relationship.  
  
“I love you,” Patrick said instead. Pete lifted his head off of Patrick’s shoulder and smiled, but he didn’t say anything. Patrick had expected as much, but it still broke his heart a little.  
  
Patrick took Pete’s hand. “But I don’t love this.”  
  
Pete frowned. “What?”  
  
“I love you, but you don’t feel the same way. And that sucks, but what sucks more is that we just… aren’t good together. We want different things.”  
  
“I can want the same things as you.”  
  
Patrick smiled, even though his heart was breaking. “But can you want those things in public? Or when you’re sober?”  
  
“I can’t believe you’re saying no to me,” Pete said, his brow furrowed into a frown.  
  
“Me either,” Patrick said, and without thinking he took Pete’s face in his hands, squeezed his eyes shut, and kissed Pete hard. Pete kissed back, and it was beautiful and passionate and so, so sad.  
  
When he pulled away, Patrick said, “I have to go find my friends. I’ll never forget you, Pete.”  
  
Patrick got up to leave, but Pete caught his hand. Patrick turned around.  
  
“I just can’t… do it,” Pete said, still slurring a little. “I do like you, Trick. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. But I just can’t do all that… stuff.”  
  
“I know,” Patrick said. “I wish I didn’t want all that stuff so bad. I’ll see you around, Pete.”  
  
When Patrick left the bedroom, the music and lights caught him off guard. People were running in and out of bedrooms, laughing, having a great time. Patrick felt so far away from everyone. He felt so sad. He needed someone.  
  
He needed his friends.  
  
He hadn’t seen Bill all night, but he knew Bill would be here. And if he knew anything about Bill after breakups, it was that he was probably back to smoking a pack a day. Patrick made his way to the front door.  
  
He spotted Bill almost immediately, sitting on the front porch steps smoking a cigarette. He swallowed his pride and sat on the step next to Bill. “Off the wagon?” he asked, pointing to the cigarette.  
  
Bill looked at him, annoyed. But his expression softened quickly, and he said, “Yeah, my heart is crushed, so my lungs may as well follow.”  
  
Patrick laughed, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Patrick didn’t know what to say. Should he apologize or demand an apology from Bill? Should he just forget it and pretend nothing happened? Should he tell Bill about what just happened with Pete?  
  
In the end, it was Bill who broke the silence. “You know, Gabe lives like a block away from here,” he said, not looking at Patrick.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. It always sucks to be this close to his house. The past few parties, I’ve just sat out here, watching cars pass by and imagining that they’re going to Gabe’s. I’m trying to get used to the idea of him moving on.”  
  
“Wow,” Patrick said. He had no clue Bill was hurting this badly. “I’m really sorry it’s so tough.”  
  
“Thanks,” Bill said, putting his cigarette out on the porch step. He looked at Patrick and said, “I’m sorry too. I’ve been an asshole. And I can blame it on the breakup, or the fact that Pete is objectively a dickhead, but none of that matters. I should have been a better friend to you.”  
  
“No way. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in my shit that I wasn’t respecting your shit. I should have been a better friend. And I honestly needed someone to knock some sense into me about Pete. I was defensive because I knew it was bad. I loved – I _love_ him. And it wasn’t enough.”  
  
Bill smiled. “We really are fucking it up in the romance department, huh?”  
  
Patrick laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”  
  
“Let’s get a drink.”  
  
Patrick and Bill walked back into the kitchen for beers. They posted up in the living room, chatting about classes and college and potential rebounds. Eventually Brendon found them, happy to have a break from prom campaigning. Bill made fun of Brendon for campaigning so hard. Brendon pretended to be upset. Patrick laughed. Then he told them about his encounter with Pete. Bill, always looking for drama, soaked up every word. Brendon asked Patrick how he was feeling, whether he needed anything. It wasn’t the night Patrick had expected. But as he sat with his two best friends, shooting the shit and gossiping as Senior year was coming to a close, Patrick realized this was exactly the night he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this one is Summer Hair = Forever Young by The Academy Is...


	24. April: William

How the fuck was William supposed to know how to tie a bowtie? He should have just gotten a normal tie. A bowtie was probably just going to make him look like a waiter anyway, which was not the look anyone was going for at prom. Not that he was especially in the mood to go anyway. He was sure that prom, like every other night since he and Gabe had broken up, would be terrible.  
  
William gave up on the tie for a minute. He shoved it into the pocket of his tux pants and sat on his bed. Prom preparation was… kind of boring. The school got out on a half day, but Bill didn’t need to get his hair or nails done. He was going to go to Brendon’s house for pictures at 5, so he had a few hours to kill. At this point in the year, he wasn’t doing homework. His parents were at work, so he was just at home alone for a while. He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out the pens Gabe had gotten him for Christmas. He didn’t have anything to write, but it was good to hold them, to pretend that he could tell Gabe his ideas for stories.  
  
He tried not to do it, but as usual, he was weak-willed. He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his old text messages with Gabe. It had been months, but he couldn’t move on. He had flirted with boys, and even made out with a few, but every time he got close to going home with someone, he would think of Gabe and become so incredibly sad that he couldn’t do it. He would go home instead, or he would stay at Brendon’s or Patrick’s. He knew his friends wouldn’t mind if he talked about it, and they probably wanted him to, but he rarely did. He wanted to keep all of his feelings and memories about Gabe, and especially about the breakup, for himself. If he couldn’t talk to Gabe about it, why talk to anyone else?  
  
And Gabe was not talking about it. William had given up trying to get a reaction out of him. He hadn’t left any comments on the story that William had written about them. He’d just given William an A. Which was fine with William, all things considered. His general plan consisted of wallowing until graduation in a few weeks and then moving on in college. Maybe he could land some hot TA in the Creative Writing department. They could drink coffee and talk about Romantic novels and go to parties and rent an apartment together. All things that he’d wanted to do with Gabe.  
  
He was sulking in his room and reading old text messages until he heard the doorbell ring. He checked his phone. It was only 2:30, there was no reason for any of his friends to be here. The doorbell rang again. He groaned and trudged down the stairs.  
  
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it was not Gabe. And yet here he was, standing on William’s porch, hands stuffed in the pockets of his khakis, purple hoodie over his button down.  
  
“Hey,” Gabe said, smiling softly.  
  
“Um,” William responded. His brain had stopped functioning. Was this really happening? Gabe hadn’t so much as looked at William in more than two months.  
  
Gabe laughed. “Right, this is probably a little weird. Maybe I should have called first or something. I just knew you’d be home and your parents wouldn’t be, and I wasn’t sure when you were doing prom pictures. So I just thought I should come by.”  
  
“For… me?”  
  
Gabe laughed again. God, William could listen to Gabe laugh all day. “Yeah, for you. Can I come in?”  
  
William opened the door and moved out of the way so Gabe could step inside. Gabe didn’t move out of the entryway, and William didn’t either. He could tell they were both uncomfortable. All William wanted was to treat Gabe like he used to, but he had no clue why Gabe was here.  
  
Gabe spoke first. “I’ve… been thinking about that story you wrote last month.”  
  
“You’ll have to be more specific.” Okay, he was capable of being snarky. His brain was starting to work again.  
  
“The one about you. And me. I never got to congratulate you on Northwestern.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” William paused, then he took a chance. “I wouldn’t have been able to get in without you.”  
  
Gabe smirked. “Well, I’m not so sure that’s true. But I’m really honored to have been a small part of that journey.”  
  
William smiled, but he didn’t say anything. He had no clue what was going on, and he didn’t want to say anything to scare Gabe off.  
  
“You know, I should have given you a worse grade on that,” Gabe continued. “It was supposed to be fiction, and I specifically said no coming-of-age stories.”  
  
“Well, I had a lot I needed to say.”  
  
“Yeah, you definitely did. I’ve always told you that you were a gifted writer. And that’s usually how I grade my students’ work. But I graded that story based on something else. Based on… emotion, I guess.”  
  
William huffed. This song and dance had been exciting when they first got together, but William knew enough about Gabe now to know that he was capable of expressing his own feelings, and anyway, William was depressed. He didn’t have time or energy for games. “Look, you came to my house to say something, and I wish you’d just say it.”  
  
“Oh, _I_ have to be the first one to spill my guts?”  
  
“I spilled my guts in that story a month ago. It’s your turn. If you have something to say, please say it.” Everything in William was begging Gabe to make everything better.  
  
“Thank you for giving me space,” Gabe responded. “I know this has been hard for you, and I appreciate that you’ve given me room to process everything. I know it must have been hard.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“I know it must have been hard for you,” Gabe pressed on, “because it’s been hard for me. I don’t ever want you to think I broke up with you because I wanted to. It’s been really hard for me to see you in class and not on the weekends, to sleep alone, to not be around you.”  
  
“Thanks,” William said honestly. It felt good to know that Gabe was going through the same thing he was. It was nice to know that they were both moping around. At least William wasn’t overreacting.  
  
“I don’t want you to think you imagined what we had. I meant it when I said I love you.”  
  
The room started spinning. William had to catch his breath. “Love? Like, present tense?”  
  
“Yeah,” Gabe said, smiling broadly, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “That’s why I’m here, I guess. I can’t stop thinking about that story, about you. And It just seems unfair that I even have to. The problem in our relationship was that you’re my student. If you had just been some other 18-year-old, if you had gone to a different school, things would be different right now. So why shouldn’t they be different anyway?”  
  
“What are you saying?” William refused to believe this was going the way he wanted it to. He was not that lucky.  
  
Gabe took William’s hand. “I’m saying I was up last night, thinking about you as usual. I thought about that night in the fall when I saw you outside of my apartment and you just went for it and kissed me, and I thought about how that kicked off one of the best years of my life. I thought about how much I love you, and I realized I didn’t have to miss you this much. So I decided I would do something just as stupid as kissing your teacher in a parking lot. I showed up on my student’s front porch. And I’m asking you to do something equally stupid. I’m asking you to wait. Just for a few weeks. Just until you’re not my student anymore. I’m asking you to trust me, and to not go home with anyone after prom, and to go on a date with me on the day after graduation. The life we talked about, the life we _had_ , I want it back.”  
  
“Yeah,” William said. It was the only word he could process. “Yeah.”  
  
“Yeah?” Gabe said, smiling. He wrapped William in his arms. William melted against him. It felt so good, so familiar, to be close to him again.  
  
After a few seconds, they broke apart. Gabe pointed at William’s pocket. “Do you need help with your tie?”  
  
William nodded, and Gabe took the tie from William’s pocket and expertly tied it around his neck. He smiled. “You look great.”  
  
“I don’t even have my jacket on,” William replied.  
  
“You’ll look even more handsome with the jacket on. You’re gonna break lots of hearts tonight.”  
  
“I don’t know about that.”  
  
“I’m chaperoning tonight. Try not to make me jealous.”  
  
“Please,” William responded. “I only have eyes for you.”  
  
“Music to my ears,” Gabe said. “I only have eyes for you. Well, I should probably get going. We have to keep our resolve for the next few weeks. But I’ll probably text you.”  
  
William smiled. “Can’t wait.”  
  
“Me either.” Gabe kissed William quickly, so quickly that William barely had time to kiss back. “I’ll see you, Will.”  
  
“See ya.”  
  
Gabe left William feeling like he was on cloud nine. Everything was going to be okay. All he had to do was wait.  
  
Maybe prom wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this one is Only Ones Who Know by Arctic Monkeys!


	25. April: Brendon

The pictures had been taken, the limo had come and gone, and Sarah, Bill, Patrick, and Brendon had all taken swigs from Sarah’s flask of rum. Now they were in the gym at school, which had been decorated with a “Nights In Paris” theme. Brendon and Sarah, who looked gorgeous in her silver dress, had been attached at the hip since they got there, dancing and laughing about how bad the music was. Patrick and Bill had stayed near the snack table. Bill had spent most of the night staring pretty conspicuously at Mr. Saporta. Things were good. Things were normal.   
  
Except that Brendon couldn’t stop himself from staring at Ryan.  
  
He looked, admittedly, so good. He had come alone, and he was wearing a slim fit burgundy tux that made him stand out against everyone in the room. Brendon wanted so badly to talk to him, to ask him if he was seeing anyone, but they still weren’t really talking. Ryan had told Brendon last week that he would handle their final for Music Theory since Brendon seemed busy with Sarah. Brendon knew Ryan had been making a point about Brendon and Sarah’s campaign for Prom King and Queen. He wished he could tell Ryan that it was more Sarah’s thing and that he didn’t really want it. That was just one of many things he wished he could say to Ryan. He was dreading the afterparty, which was going to be at Ryan’s house.  
  
“Hey,” Sarah whispered. “Want to help me drink this rum? Audrey and I are gonna go outside to finish it off.”  
  
“Uh, no thanks,” Brendon said, happy to get a break from Sarah. “I’m gonna hang out with Patrick and Bill for a second. Come find me when you’re done.”  
  
“Okay,” Sarah said, kissing Brendon on the cheek and heading toward Audrey.   
  
“How are you two still eating?” Brendon said as he walked up to Patrick and Bill, who were stuffing their faces with cookies.  
  
“They started prom at 7. That’s dinner time,” Bill responded. “Plus Gabe is closer to the snack table than the dance floor.”  
  
“You’re not really helping with the rumors about you two,” Brendon said, picking up a cookie himself. Bill had told them about Mr. Saporta showing up at his house earlier, but Brendon still thought there was definitely time for the relationship to implode.  
  
“Fuck everyone,” Bill responded. “I don’t care about the rumor mill anymore. Classes end in two weeks and then it won’t matter.”  
  
Brendon didn’t say anything. He wished he could care that little about what everyone thought.  
  
“So.” Patrick said. “Ryan looks pretty good tonight, right?”  
  
“ _Patrick_ ,” Brendon hissed.  
  
“I’m just saying, maybe you should tell him you think he looks good.”  
  
“I’m here with Sarah.”  
  
“Yeah but you’ve been ogling Ryan all night. And… he misses you. He told me at the party last weekend.”  
  
“Whoa, Patrick, you’ve been sitting on that information a long time,” Bill exclaimed.  
  
“I know. I thought it wasn’t a big deal because I didn’t think you would care. But, Brendon, you’ve got it bad for him.”  
  
“We won’t know each other in a month. He’ll be back in Las Vegas, I’ll be here, we’ll fall out of touch, the feelings will… fade.”   
  
“Counterpoint,” Bill responded. “You follow him to Las Vegas, you get together for real, you have great sex and adopt beautiful children.”  
  
“That is… optimistic,” Brendon responded. “Plus if I went to Vegas, I wouldn’t be here with Sarah. Or with you.”  
  
Patrick smiled. “You don’t have to stay in Chicago to stay friends with us,” he said.  
  
“Yeah,” Bill agreed, “And you should go wherever is going to bring you the most happiness.”  
  
Brendon was about to protest when Sarah ran to his side. “They’re about to announce King and Queen,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the DJ.  
  
“Good luck!” Bill shouted after them.  
  
Sarah pulled them as close to the DJ booth as possible. Principal Hicks took the microphone.   
  
“We hope everyone is having a great prom,” he said to applause and some cheers. “And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for. This year’s Senior Prom King and Queen are… Brendon Urie and Sarah Orzechowski!”  
  
Brendon had been expecting this, but the thunderous applause, the pats on the back as he made his way to the DJ booth, the way Sarah looked at him as they got their crowns, felt way better than he thought they would.   
  
While they waved at the crowd, Brendon saw Ryan, leaning on the wall away from the crowd, smirking. Brendon smiled back, hoping Ryan knew the smile was for him.  
  
“And now, it’s time for the King and Queen’s dance,” Principal Hicks said. The crowd shifted so there was an open circle in the middle of the group. The DJ played a slow song and Sarah led Brendon into the middle of the crowd.  
  
“This is so cool,” Sarah said as they danced.   
  
“Yeah,” Brendon agreed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was looking around, trying to see if Ryan had left or if he was watching.  
  
Sarah was quite for a few seconds, then she said, “Brendon, is there something you wanna tell me?”  
  
Brendon was caught off-guard. “What?”  
  
Sarah smiled, but her eyes were sad. “I’ve been watching you watch Ryan all night. I’m not blind or stupid.”  
  
“Oh, sorry. I’ll stop.”  
  
“Brendon, if you still… feel something for him, I don’t want to stand in your way.”  
  
Brendon frowned. “What do you mean?”  
  
“You look for him in every room, and you talk about him all the time, and you two haven’t talked in months, and I just want you to know that I don’t want to hold you back from anything. If you like him, ask him to dance.”  
  
“I thought I was being slick.”  
  
“You were not,” Sarah laughed.  
  
“Are you mad at me?”  
  
“Not really. I mean, I still like you and I can’t believe I’m letting you leave me for somebody on Prom night. But I guess it’s just because I’m so generous. And maybe a little tipsy.”  
  
“Thank you, Sarah. I hope we can still be friends.”  
  
“No problem, Brendon.” Sarah kissed Brendon’s cheek. “Of course we can.”  
  
When the song ended, Brendon set off to find Ryan. He was still leaned against the wall, drinking punch. He smirked again when he saw Brendon coming toward him. God, he looked good.  
  
“Ryan, I want to know if you want to dance with me,” Brendon said.  
  
“Oh, are you sure?” Ryan answered, dripping with sarcasm. “Because _people_ might see if we-“  
  
“Ryan.” Brendon was not interested in playing games anymore. “I miss hanging out with you, and I know you miss hanging out with me. I know you saw the lyrics I sent you a while ago. I wrote that song for you. Will you please dance with me?”  
  
Ryan didn’t respond. He looked a little gobsmacked. It was the first time Brendon had really made Ryan speechless. Brendon smiled and held out his hand. Ryan took it.  
  
The walked together to the middle of the dance floor. Brendon brought Ryan close to his body and they started to dance.  
  
“You look nice tonight,” Brendon whispered.  
  
Ryan laughed. “Yeah, I noticed you staring at me all night.” He softened and said, “You look good too.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“I mean, the crown is a great touch. You should wear that all night. Or, like, forever.”  
  
“Maybe I will, if you like it so much.”  
  
“I think people might be staring,” Ryan said, but he didn’t take his eyes off Brendon.  
  
“That’s okay. We won’t be around these people in three months anyway.”  
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“I got into UNLV. And I think I’m gonna go.”  
  
Ryan broke into a wide smile. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, I made someone a promise. And I don’t like disappointing them.”  
  
“I’m going to kiss you now.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Ryan pressed his lips against Brendon’s. It felt so good to kiss Ryan again, like he had been thirsty for months and finally found water. Brendon knew people would stare. He assumed they would talk. But suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore. He had what he wanted. And anyway, he was being a good friend by taking some of the heat off of Bill.  
  
Ryan and Brendon stayed close to each other for the rest of Prom. The two of them danced with Bill and Patrick, and even Sarah and Audrey. And they danced together, lost in their own world. They were right back where they were months ago: falling fast, with no regard for the rest of the world.  
  
Which could not have been more evident at Ryan’s party. Five minutes after they got there, Ryan pulled Brendon into his bedroom and crowded him against the wall. They kissed hard and clumsy, desperate for literally any contact they could get. Ryan pushed Brendon hard against the wall, causing Brendon’s crown to fall off.  
  
Ryan smirked and picked it up. “I think I’m gonna confiscate this. You’ve been wearing it a long time.”  
  
Brendon laughed, pulling Ryan back to him. “I forgot I was wearing it. I got distracted. You can have it if you want.”  
  
“Well, lucky for you,” Ryan said, putting the crown on his head and pulling away from Brendon to lay on his bed, “I look great in a crown.”  
  
Brendon laughed and climbed on top of Ryan. The crown fell off of Ryan’s head and onto the floor, but neither of the boys paid much attention. They were too busy making up for lost time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this one is Strange Love by Simple Creatures!


	26. May (Epilogue)

It was unusually hot, even for the end of May, but Brendon, Ryan, Patrick, and William were sitting in Ryan’s backyard anyway. Ryan had dragged a cooler full of leftover beer from last night’s party outside, and the four boys sat on the ground around it. William felt the briefest pang of guilt- since their graduation yesterday, the four boys had completely abandoned their parents for each other, coming over to Ryan’s immediately after their various congratulatory lunches, staying for the party, spending the night, and now wasting the day away in Ryan’s backyard, nursing their hangovers and swapping stories about how crazy the party was. But the guilt passed quickly. William’s parents would have to get used to the fact that he just wouldn’t be around anymore, and neither would his friends. Anyway, Ryan’s dad wasn’t home for the graduation ceremony that had taken place yesterday, and Brendon had been weirdly pushy about making sure the four of them would hang out after. William’s parents couldn’t possibly argue with that.  
  
“I can’t possibly drink this,” Patrick whined, laying flat on the ground with his beer in his hand. “I feel like I’m going to die.”  
  
“We’re about to go to _college_. That’s not going to be the last wild night you have,” Brendon answered.  
  
“Yeah, if you can call five beers ‘wild,’” William snickered.  
  
“Hey!” Patrick said, tossing his beer at William. “You know I had more than five beers last night.”  
  
Ryan laughed. “Maybe, like, one more.”  
  
“You all suck,” Patrick huffed.  
  
“Seriously though, I am sorry about Pete last night. I tried to get him to cut it out, but he just wouldn’t, and I didn’t want to ask him to drive home…”  
  
“It’s really no big deal,” Patrick said. “Honestly, it’s not the worst feeling in the world to make Pete Wentz cry.”  
  
“He cried because you told him to stop following you around,” William said. “That’s creepy. He’s a creep.”  
  
Patrick sat up. “Hey, chill out. I’m not getting back together with him, okay? He didn’t ruin my night, he’s no longer ruining my life.”  
  
William softened. His immediate reaction whenever anyone brought Pete up anymore was to remind Patrick as quickly as possible why Pete was bad for him. But it was less out of hate for Pete (although he hated Pete) and more out of love for Patrick. “I know,” he said. “I just don’t want you to get sucked up in all of that again. And sorry for calling him a creep, Ryan, I know he’s your friend.”  
  
“No, he was definitely being creepy,” Ryan agreed. “And he wasn’t nice to you, Patrick. And that’s really shitty, even if he is my friend.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. It’s cool. I’m just gonna take the summer to get over it and then I’ll go get my heart broken again. Pete Wentz isn’t the only hot guy with eyeliner and guitars.”  
  
“And lots of hot guys with eyeliner and guitars are really nice,” Brendon added.  
  
“Was that a subtle reference to your boyfriend?” Ryan teased, laying his head in Brendon’s lap.  
  
“Yes,” Brendon said softly, and he leaned down to kiss Ryan.  
  
William and Patrick looked at each other and smiled. It would be so easy to be pissed at Ryan for being the reason Brendon was going so far away for college, but Ryan and Brendon were so obsessed with each other and cared so much about each other that it didn’t make sense to be mad about it. William was just happy for them. And for Patrick. And for himself. In the few weeks since prom, everything had gone back to normal; William and Brendon and Patrick spent most of their time together (now with the addition of Ryan), no one was moping about boys, everyone was excited for themselves and their friends, everyone was constantly making fun of each other, and everyone had each other’s backs. But everything had changed, too. They were all different than they had been in August. They all acted older, more sure of themselves. They were more comfortable with change. William had thought that cleaning their locker out together on the last day of school was going to be so hard, so sad. But it wasn’t. It was necessary, freeing. The three boys had laughed through the whole thing, swapping memories about the last ten years. William had been so scared of this part of their lives, when it was too obvious to ignore that their lives were going to go in different directions. But now that that moment was here, it didn’t feel scary at all. It felt right.  
  
“When are you leaving, Bill?” Ryan asked, still laying in Brendon’s lap.  
  
William checked his phone. It was 12:45. “A few minutes, probably,” he responded. Gabe was coming to get him around 1. William had done a good job of not talking too much about it, if he didn’t say so himself, but he was so excited. He had done the right thing by telling Gabe that he couldn’t see him last night because he needed to go to Ryan’s party, but the waiting was agony. Ever since prom, they had been staring at each other in class and in the hallways, but they hadn’t said anything to each other in person. They’d texted each other a few times to say they missed each other, but that was it. William felt like he was on fire with anticipation. He just wanted normalcy. He wanted to be with Gabe, and he wanted it to not be a big deal. He wanted it more than anything.  
  
“Well, you’re welcome to come back here after,” Ryan said.  
  
“I think I’m gonna need to go home for a few hours before we go to Arlo tonight,” William said. “I want to prove to my parents that I’m alive.”  
  
“That’s fair,” Patrick said. “I also probably need to do that.”  
  
“Well if you need to go, we can all just meet back up tonight,” Ryan said. “Brendon and I can think of a few ways to spend the afternoon.”  
  
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Patrick said, getting up. “I’m gonna head home for a little bit. I’ll pick everyone up tonight. Brendon, where should I get you?”  
  
“I’ll be here,” Brendon replied, smiling down at Ryan and not looking at Patrick.  
  
“Sounds good. I’ll see everyone later.”  
  
“He did only have five beers last night, right?” Brendon said as soon as Patrick left.  
  
William laughed. “Yeah, but don’t push the issue.”  
  
“I’m excited that he’s doing music production. He’ll be good at that.”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“Maybe he can produce our debut album,” Ryan said, looking at Brendon. The three of them laughed, but William had a feeling that Ryan was maybe a little serious.  
  
William’s phone vibrated. He’d gotten a text from Gabe: _Here_.  
  
“Gotta go,” William said, scrambling to stand up.  
  
“Good luck,” Brendon said.  
  
“Thanks.” William practically ran from the back of the house to the front of it. When he opened the front door, he saw Gabe sitting in his car. Gabe turned at the sound of the door opening and smiled broadly at William. William took a breath, smiled back, and walked toward the car. He tried to regulate his breathing. He told his heart to stop racing. But it was in vain. William knew it was here. The moment he had been anticipating all year. It was big and scary and exciting and overwhelming and everything he wanted. It was change.  
  
And change felt so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter is Coffee by Copeland
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This has been knocking around in my head for a few years and I'm so glad I finally got to write it. I hope you enjoyed it!!!


End file.
